Fly-by-Knight
by EssGee
Summary: An in-depth exploration of the Swordsmen of DOMA coming into their roles, meeting Dartz and each other, and spending time under one roof prior to the events of the Orichalcos Arc. (More shipping than initially intended..)
1. Humble Beginnings

_A/N: This will draw influence from both the sub and the dub at times. If things don't necessarily conflict, I'll likely combine them. If they do, I'll try to give sub precedence where I'm familiar enough with it, but I've seen a lot more of the dub, so it's bound to fluctuate a little. That said, my emphasis will certainly be on general storytelling first and foremost. I hope you all enjoy!_

Today was the anniversary. Ten-thousand ninety years exactly since the fall of his kingdom. During that time, Dartz had accumulated hundreds of thousands of souls with ease.

By taking advantage of men's wars, he afforded himself a surprising amount of spare time. By seizing the souls of criminals who had been sentenced to death anyway, he afforded himself even more. It was not uncommon for Dartz to go inactive for years at a time, relying only on well-placed pawns to 'farm' designated locations, allowing him to focus on DOMA's business endeavors and attempting to commune with his god.

It was a largely solitary life, and a lesser individual may have been frustrated that after so long, the time was still not yet right. But time had made Dartz a very patient person.

Today, however, was different. Today, to his pleasant surprise, he heard something new. Or rather, he felt something new. Leviathan did not communicate directly. Rather, the power of the Orichalcos moved through him, giving him feelings, ideas, instincts. It compelled him to actions he did not always understand himself, but he was far beyond the point of questioning them. Himself, perhaps, if he was having trouble seeing what the Orichalcos tried to show him. But never the power itself.

The dragons.

He could feel their presence, but it was faint- distant, and clouded. A memory of the past, or an inkling of the future.

To combat three legendary dragons, he would need to seek three knights of his own. Three dragon-slayers. Three swordsmen, three musketeers, of sorts. This he suddenly understood clear as day.

The question of where to obtain them was not so easily answered, but he did know they would be none of his current servants. He needed furious souls. Souls that would rage fiercely against this world and everything within it. While all his pawns held some bitterness, he needed more.

And although he knew nothing else about them, he had some basic understanding of where he'd need to look to find them.

It seemed he would be taking a trip.

* * *

Dartz didn't know where he was going until he got to the airport, and one city spoke to him. This happened again at the next port, and the next, until he found himself in a medium-sized city in Victoria, Australia.

He continued to follow his gut to what seemed like a poorer, somewhat run-down part of the city. Then, his compulsion ceased. Either some unforeseen magical force was in play, or- more likely- he had reached his destination.

When nothing stood out in Dartz's immediate survey, he found a place to settle down for the moment. He knew it may take hours or even days to find what he was looking for, but Dartz was a very patient person.

This did not mean he could not be mildly disappointed at times, however. The city had its share of scum, but nothing out of the ordinary. He may have sought a person in a position of power, but little he'd seen could qualify as anything of the sort. The local priest seemed closest, and Dartz had found their type… difficult, over the years. The criminals seemed petty and lackluster. And his magical right eye detected no particularly powerful souls in the vicinity among the common folk, either. Not that this was surprising, given the majority of those were currently tradesmen, nuns, and children.

Still, he had waited three hours thus far, and he could certainly wait longer.

He was just preparing to continue his round of the area when something caught his ear, clearly than it should have been at that distance:

"YOU WANNA GO, MATE? Call me a drongo again- I bloody _dare_ ya!"

By the time Dartz turned toward the source, a small boy was already whaling on not one but two other children, both larger than himself. Naturally, each time he would focus his attention on one, the other would take the opportunity to counter, but his sheer speed and _ferocity_ kept them both at bay, until the boy stood over them, bloody but victorious. Judging by his caretaker's reaction, this was a common occurrence.

As he watched the scene play out down the street, Dartz had to admit this was not what he expected. The boy could not have been older than 9 or 10- barely older than Kris had been- and beating up the other orphans in a church's orphanage was _hardly_ the first thing he expected to see his future knight doing; the situation was so utterly ridiculous he couldn't help but smirk to himself.

But as he walked away to plan his next course of action, there was no doubt at all in his mind, and he'd confirmed with his own eye, that boy's soul blazed brightly already. With the right push, he could become powerful indeed. Truly, there was a _fire_ within that child.

* * *

 _Speaking_ of fire…

Dartz may have been surprised how little he'd needed to manipulate the threads of fate in this ordeal, but such had become par for the course over his life. It was the reason he trusted the Orichalcos's compulsions unwaveringly.

It was not difficult to ensure several people would still be inside as the church burned, or that the building's new owners would be in the crowd, or that young Valon would see them.

He _was_ , however, surprised both that the boy went so far as to _kill_ the presumed arsonists and that he was _able_ to take down all three of them with no intervention.

Dartz considered recruiting him _then_ , but he could feel now that the time was not right. The ten years that the juvenile was soon sentenced for 'manslaughter' would only serve to feed his rage and mistrust toward the world, and, of course… Dartz was a very patient person.

* * *

Months passed. A year. A year and a half.

At last, Dartz felt another compulsion. This time, however, he'd be setting events in motion much more remotely. The proper chant with the proper timing, and the ocean bent to his will.

It would be only two days before he saw news of the ship he'd sunk, but three years before he learned of its sole survivor. That was okay. He did not know in what way this event would bring another knight to his circle, but he trusted that it would.

* * *

His investments in both war and prisons paid off around similar times on two different continents.

In Asia, world-renowned company Kaiba Corp was currently supplying weapons to one side of a heated Civil War. With some gentle persuasion from a hefty investor, CEO Gozaboro was convinced there was no harm in profiting off both sides of this war if it was going to continue, and to take the opportunity to field test some of his newer innovations.

Meanwhile, in Australia, Valon was proving more of a problem child than Dartz could have hoped, rarely out of solitary more than a few days before he picked yet another fight, usually with multiple children and sometimes even with the guards. Due to be transferred not for the first time to a more secure facility, Dartz was easily able to have him brought to a more _specialized_ location, where he would be taught a new means of conducting his battles, and farm Dartz a healthy dose of fresh and troubled souls in the process.

* * *

Only a month later, Dartz sensed it was at last time to meet one of his knights face to face. He followed his compulsions once again until they led him to a child refugee who had lost both mother and brother.

Dartz's words were laced with honey and promise as he offered the child a chance at vengeance- a chance that was eagerly accepted. What options were left at this point, after all?

Once they had boarded the plane to return to DOMA headquarters, Dartz prompted, "You've very quiet, child."

"... I don't really have anything to talk about," was the murmured response.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" Dartz asked gently.

"I guess…" Grey eyes averted. "My name's… Amelda… I'm e-.. I guess I'm twelve, now… I…" There was a long pause. "I used to like reading, and chess, before… Miruko and I didn't really have time for fun, though, since…"

As the tears started to fall, a small part of Dartz felt a tinge of sympathy, although another part wondered at the Orichalcos's intent in sending him a twelve-year-old child. Yet another part, however, couldn't help but lay a comforting hand on Amelda's shoulder as he mused, "You were a gentle spirit once, weren't you, child…" He did not expect an answer, and none came, but it wasn't hard to see. It seemed the kindest hearts broke the hardest. This would be good for inspiring the Orichalcos's will.

Then, against all reason, Dartz suddenly heard himself saying, "You remind me a bit of my own daughter." What? After all this time, did he still have a parental side somewhere within him? How strange.

Amelda became a little more withdrawn. "Uh.. Thanks? I think, but… I…" The child bit her lip and mumbled, "I'm a boy…" … _His_ lip.

Dartz's eyes widened a little. "My sincerest apologies, young man." He decided downplaying the comparison might be most helpful, and offered, "I only meant that you'd both suffered a great deal in a short time. Though it has been… quite some time since I lost her."

Amelda looked up to him with hurt shock, then looked away again. "I'm really sorry…" He clenched his small fists.

But Dartz shook his head. "Don't be. In time, you and I will find others who understand the darkness in this world as we do. And together, my child, we shall end such suffering. Together, we shall usher in a new age."


	2. Second Recruit

Valon hadn't been in a good brawl for months, and it was starting to get to him. This card game they'd gotten him playing sure was something, and being The Best at it- or anything in general- had its merits. Watching his victims fall motionless to the ground was also gratifying.

But while he enjoyed winning, and he really did love the element of strategy and mental exercise that the game provided, he rarely felt particularly challenged by it. It didn't make his heart race, didn't make him feel alive. In the best of times, it was a pleasant diversion, and in the worst he found it boring.

At least he got to be outside. Not that he could go _too_ far on this small island, but even that much freedom was something he hadn't tasted practically since his parents died. Something he hadn't expected to see again until he was an adult.

Stalking the other kids like prey and ambushing them to challenge added a little extra excitement to his life, too. He soon found that when they wouldn't be any challenge to him, drawing out their panic and suspense made his duels a little more fun.

He made a game of it, in fact. He didn't know how they appeared on these cards when he beat them, and wasn't sure what their custodians did with them (their bodies? Valon wasn't sure) once they went comatose. But if he was going to play a card game, he may as well be a serious collector, too.

Some six months after coming to the island, the facility's primary benefactors showed up to see how "the boys" were doing thus far. Only Valon showed up to greet them, tossing upwards of fifty cards on the ground before them. He was pretty sure there were still a handful of lads hiding out there. He wasn't sure if he abhorred their cowardice, admired their honing in on what skill they had and compensating for what they knew they didn't, or was grateful to them for giving him something to strive toward. But he'd find them in due time.

Or he would have, had the company president not approached to offer him his freedom. Valon couldn't believe it; his sentence wasn't quite half over, assuming he'd been counting right.

"Unless…" Unless? Unless _what?_ What could they possibly offer that would be worth more to-

Stronger opponents, you say? _And_ nearly as much freedom? Just needing to work for this 'DOMA'? Hell yes. "But let me just say one thing," Valon added after accepting.

"Hm?"

"If you don't watch yourself, I might end up beating even you!"

Dartz offered the slightest questioning smirk. "It's good to see your fire has only grown, child." Turning back to their ship, they prompted, "Come along. Your new home awaits."

Valon looked to the men in suits gathering up all the cards he'd dropped, then grinned as it really sank in. He was _leaving!_ Smiling brighter than he had in- longer than he could remember, he hurried after Dartz.

Had Valon not thought so highly of his own skill, he might have questioned more what such a powerful person wanted with a 14-year-old kid, but as it was, he found himself wondering things more like, " 'ey- It's Dartz, right? That's a weird name, ya know."

Their expression sort of looked amused, but it also looked sort of like it did ever since arriving, so Valon wasn't sure if that was just the default. "It's a very old name," came the calm response.

"Huh." Well then… He looked the person over. Suits were kind of masculine, but soft lavender wasn't. A strong jaw, but gentle features and soft eyes; a solid frame, but hair that nearly dragged the ground. He debated a few more seconds before finally blurting, "Sorry I gotta ask, mate, but're you a bloke 'r a sheila?"

Dartz's easy smile grew slightly wider. "Currently, yes."

Valon stared, then tilted and scratched his head. "So.. Wha'do I call ya, then?"

"Master Dartz will suffice," they said pleasantly. Valon hadn't really expected 'mum' or 'dad', but he didn't think he much cared for the feeling of 'master'... "Feel free to make yourself at home aboard the ship. I'll be retiring to my quarters to ensure all your files are in order."

"Uh.. Aight."

Over their shoulder, they called back, "And Valon? Do stay out of trouble."

Valon put on a slight pout at that. Which was to say the warning was entirely warranted, and he might find some mess to get himself into anyway, but he still disliked the assumption.

Eh, anything had to be better than solitary, and as much as the island had been a nice change of pace, Valon was getting a little excited at the idea of seeing real civilization again. He could scarcely remember food that wasn't prison slop or clothes that weren't a hideous orange jumpsuit.

He supposed he didn't mind Dartz being a little eccentric, at least for a little while.

* * *

Amelda was still trying to decide just what he thought of his new life.

In many ways, it was good, albeit stressful. Dartz ensured he was able to make up for all the education he'd missed and assured him that with diligence, he'd soon be far ahead of his peers. But Amelda would have to take his word for it, given his private tutors meant he did not really have peers to which he could compare himself. He wished any of his friends had found a way to escape the war zone with him…

He was not entirely lonely, however. All his tutors were good-spirited enough. Not especially friendly or chatty, but not aloof and willing to patiently discuss topics with him.

Some of the other men in Dartz's employ- the men who worked in the lower levels of this massive building that served as his new 'house'- would talk with him from time to time, though there were others who ignored him and at least a few who were clearly none too happy to "be taking orders from some brat". Amelda hadn't really made a habit of giving orders, but got the impression he was getting some sort of special treatment, at least.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, he was 12, not stupid. There was definitely some incredibly eerie cult stuff going on around here- perhaps even _oc_ cult stuff. The card game Dartz was utterly insistent he master was enough to suggest that, but it wasn't the only thing. And with Dartz having hand-picked him and providing him such thorough care and insisting all his employees be respectful to Amelda and so-on… Well, it was pretty obvious he had _something_ more planned for him, and Amelda wasn't sure he wanted to think about what that was.

On the _other_ hand, Dartz had been nothing but kind and respectful to him since he got here almost half a year ago, and done more to help him than probably every other adult in his life combined up to that point- barring his mother, but only through lack of time to catch up. Duel Monsters was _fun_ , even if he did get a weird vibe from it sometimes. And having Dartz practice dueling with him, or play chess, or sit down for dinner with him even if only once or twice a week most weeks… That was something he hadn't expected to have again.

Between treating him like family and helping him get his revenge against Kaiba Corporation, Amelda wasn't sure he _cared_ what Dartz's ultimate goals were. He'd grown to trust him- something else he hadn't expected himself to do for a long time.

Of course, it wasn't long before that trust was betrayed.

One night, Amelda sat at the dining table, working on his homework while the staff set the table. Judging by the amount they were putting out, Dartz should be home from his latest trip today. That would be nice; Amelda was a little embarrassed to admit to himself he was starting to miss him. He wasn't usually gone quite this long.

Involuntarily, a thought raced through his mind: _What if he doesn't come back?_

It was quickly banished. Dartz wasn't like the others. He was powerful in a way Amelda was sure he couldn't imagine. He would always come back.

An unfamiliar voice rang through the hall, too young and naive to be one of the employees: "Struth! What a spread! Is all this really for us, then?"

"Almost," answered Dartz. "We do have one more joining us."

Amelda's stomach turned as he mentally replied, _We do?_ He looked to the far side of the room to see Dartz in the doorway, a boy a little taller than Amelda beside him.

The boy's eyes were too wide. Too full of hope. "But still all this food for only three people? Apples and spice!" … Amelda didn't see any apples among the dishes?

Well, he supposed his options were to keep waiting awkwardly, run to his room to sulk, or make his presence known, so he set his work aside and approached the pair. "Hello, Master. I take it you had a productive trip?" His words held the faintest bite as he glanced to the newcomer.

He wasn't sure whether to feel defensive or vindicated over the fact that the boy's expression suddenly mirrored his own disdain. "Who's the ranga?"

There was a moment of silence, but from Dartz's expression it seemed he had no more idea of what that word was supposed to mean than Amelda did. It was clear who he meant, though, so Dartz answered, "This is Amelda. And Amelda, this young man is Valon. He'll be living with us from here on, in a similar position as you."

Amelda scoffed. " _Why?_ "

"Now 'old on," Valon protested. "No one said nothin' about puttin' up with a little ankle-biter." He looked up to Dartz. "...We don't gotta share a room or nothin', do we?"

He shook his head. "No, no. I assure you you'll have plenty of space to yourself."

Amelda rolled his eyes. "Did you _really_ think you wouldn't in a building of this size?" Truth be told, he'd been a little nervous himself; he'd have liked to _assume_ Dartz wouldn't force that on him, but he'd have also liked to assume that Dartz wouldn't pseudo-adopt another kid without saying anything, so… Valon made a good target to vent his frustration on, though. "Idiot…"

The older boy squared up. " _What_ was that?"

Amelda did his best not to flinch, but his eyes widened a little as his heart raced a little faster. He may have underestimated just how much bigger Valon really was than he. All the same, on sheer principle, he refused to be intimidated, and held his ground.

Dartz spoke before either child. "You will, however, be sharing some of your lessons as of next week." Sounds of protest came in near unison, but he ignored them and went on. "I would also highly recommend you practice dueling one another."

" _Gladly_ ," remarked Valon, his grin downright predatory.

" _With cards,_ " Dartz clarified, tone drier than usual.

"Bugger…"

"I believe it should also go without saying that the Seal is strictly forbidden from use when dueling each other," he added. Valon rolled his eyes. Dartz preempted Amelda's confusion by adding, "You and I shall discuss that soon enough."

Valon was visibly sulking. " 'sthis lil brat even know 'ow to _play_ Duel Monsters? I mean if ya need me ta teach'r I guess I _can_ but it's not gonna do much good for _me._ "

"Excuse you? I bet I can duel _circles_ around you." He looked him up and down. "Anyway, who're you calling a brat? How old are you, anyway?"

"I just turned fourteen," Valon answered. "What're you? Eight, nine?"

"I'm only a year and a half younger than you, then, dumbass." Bitterness welling, he snapped, "And I've seen things in my life you couldn't _dream_ of."

Valon barked a laugh. "I'll bet you ' _ave_ , seein' as 'ow I ain't seen much o' nothin' in _prison._ "

Amelda squinted, unsure if he believed him. He turned to Dartz for confirmation, and received a silent nod. … Well, that explained why even at this age his arms were downright bulging. Geez. "You don't scare me," Amelda half-bluffed.

"I _should…_ " His voice was suddenly much softer, and at the same time much more threatening.

Even Dartz tensed slightly, setting a hand on the teen's shoulder. "Calm down, Valon."

Amelda just rolled his eyes. "Look, that big tough guy routine might've worked for you in the past, but you and I both know you're not gonna do shit to me, so you might as well drop it."

Valon had not calmed down. "You think I won't hit a girl?"

Amelda flinched and clenched his teeth, but before he could say anything Dartz calmly yet firmly replied, "He's a boy."

"..What? Really?" Anger subsided somewhat to make way for skepticism as he looked the furious redhead over. "You sure, mate?"

Dartz was quiet a little too long before suggesting, "Let's check, shall we?" What? "Amelda, are you a boy?" Oh.

"Not that I really owe this jerk an answer, but yes." He crossed his arms, perhaps a little too tightly.

Valon started to say… _something_ ; Amelda was glad he didn't make it far enough to tell what. But Dartz cut him off. "I don't expect you to get along immediately, but you _will_ respect each other. Do I make myself clear?" Reluctant mutters of affirmation came from both sides. Dartz smiled gently. "Good. It may not yet be clear why, but destiny has chosen you boys for a reason. In the years to come, both of you shall accomplish great things."

Valon blinked. "Destiny, eh? 'fyou say so, mate." Amelda said nothing, but did not protest.

"Good." Dartz moved past them and toward the table, then, calling their attention back to it as well.

Valon grinned at the reminder. "I'm still not so sure about dealin' with the whinger, but I reckon it's nothin' to chuck a wobbly about, least not right now. Wha'd'ya blokes say we zip it with the earbashin' and bog in?"

Amelda stared for several seconds. "... What. language. are you even speaking." Amelda's own English had never been perfect, though it had improved in leaps and bounds since Dartz took him in. But what he didn't know he could usually piece together well enough with context, and there was just… no way he was missing _that much._

"What? You got a problem with my strine?"

"...Your _what?_ "

Irritably, Valon snapped back, "Look, mate, you don' 'ear me makin' fun o' _your_ accent, so why don' you stop bein' such a bloody tosser and lay off?"

"Boys," Dartz called from across the room. "You should be seated now."

"Ain't gotta tell _me_ twice."

"Apparently he kind of does," Amelda muttered under his breath, following at a distance.

Valon circled the table a few times trying to decide what he wanted first, and Amelda waited lest he end up having to sit too close. "Crikey, I don' even know what half this stuff is. D'you always eat like this? I'da settled for a nice sanger and some chockie bickies."

"Are you literally just making up words."

"Fuck off. What's your problem?"

"... Boys."

"My problem is you sound like an _idiot._ " Immediately, Valon turned his full focus to Amelda. He moved within a few inches and stared down menacingly, but Amelda held his ground.

" _Boys._ "

"Say it again," Valon warned, voice soft again.

He wouldn't. Dartz wouldn't allow it; he _had_ to know that much. And if he didn't, it just made the statement all the more true. "You're. A fucking. Idio-" Amelda doubled over as Valon's fist rammed straight into his stomach. Once he processed what happened, though, the younger boy could not take that lying down.

He couldn't overpower him, either, though, so Amelda did his best to use his size to his advantage- a strategy that worked surprisingly well. Either that meant Valon was more bark than bite, or it meant he was used to larger rather than smaller opponents, in which case Amelda was likely screwed if he _did_ get a solid hold on him. He hoped he wouldn't have to find out.

"Boys- Children _please, control_ yourselves!" Dartz was standing now; Amelda could see that much out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn't about to turn to look.

Amelda managed to land a few hits, but Valon didn't seem to notice at all. Then Valon finally managed to grapple him, and down they went. Things became a blur of panic and struggling and pain after that, until finally Amelda registered Valon being pulled off of him.

Dartz clutched Valon by the hair, and the boy soon turned to lash at him as well, but suddenly stopped cold. Dartz's eyes and the gem that dangled from his forehead both glowed, while Valon's eyes glassed over as he became completely docile.

Amelda sat up, then slowly pushed himself to his feet and stumbled back until he found a chair to collapse in. At last, Dartz released Valon, who staggered before finding his balance.

"Are we calm now?" Dartz asked, far too cheerful to be sincere. Both boys nodded slowly. "Good." He took another moment to compose himself, drawing a deep breath before pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering something along the lines of _didn't sign up for this…_ "It seems clear to me now that _you_ are going to need some sort of outlet, and I get the feeling dueling alone will not suffice."

Valon rubbed the back of his neck, eyes to the ground, sulking. "Prob'ly not," he mumbled. "But for the record, 'e started it…"

!? "- _You_ started it, you-"

" _Silence._ " Both complied. Dartz turned to Amelda. "And you, dear child. While I understand you did not 'make' him lash out, it really would be best not to antagonize him. It would be _most unfortunate_ if anything were to happen to either of you." … Why did that sound like more of a threat than a concern? At least it seemed directed at both of them… Focus back on Amelda, he went on, "But this has also brought to my attention that I probably _have_ neglected your physical training. Tomorrow, I shall look into arrangements to add that to both your curriculums."

Great. Amelda supposed it _would_ be good to be able to better defend himself, and he wouldn't mind someday beating the living hell out of Gozaboro Kaiba if he ever got the chance. But that was yet another new thing thrown onto his plate because _someone_ couldn't communicate using _words._

Doing his best not to think about the pain he was in or how badly he was going to bruise, Amelda got to his feet. "I'm not… really hungry anymore… I think I'm just gonna go to my room."

"Sit," ordered Dartz.

"What?"

"Both of you are going to sit down and enjoy this meal, and you are going to do it without speaking to one another for the rest of the night. Is that understood?"

Reluctantly, each answered, "Yes sir…"

At least the food was good, even if it was a little hard to really enjoy it...


	3. Amelda vs Valon

"That's enough for today, I think," said the instructor.

As Valon pulled himself to his feet, he urged, "C'mon, one more! I think I've about got it!"

The man sighed. "You're not going to 'get' much of anything until you learn to calm down and focus rather than just thrashing instinctually."

" 'o says I'm not focusin'?" The instructor lifted a brow. "I just need more practice! You'll see!"

The man sighed a little harder, but before he could say anything, Amelda's voice cut in. "Are you that eager to be beaten _again?_ "

Valon turned to sneer. "It's not _losin'_ if I neva stop _fightin'_ , now, is it?" At least that was the way _he_ saw it. He hadn't lost twenty sparring matches; he'd been knocked down and gotten up twenty times in one ongoing match.

"Whatever you say, musclebrain. But you're gonna _have_ to stop soon; it's my turn, and you've got Geometry in ten minutes." Right. Well, bugger all.

" _One_ more," he pleaded again.

"Fine. But just one." The instructor took a defensive stance. "Whenever you're ready, come at me."

Valon feigned a bit this way, then that, trying to decide how to start before finally lunging in a similar manner to what he'd done in three of the last five attempts. This time, though, he knew what the response would be, and compensated at the last fraction of a second, rolling with expected movement to reach a position where he could deliver a solid jab to the torso.

He made contact, but wasn't able to follow through before he had to avoid a counter.

The man was almost _too_ fast. Valon could scarcely keep track of where he was, let alone keep up. But the effort was _exhilarating_.

He lost himself as everything else ceased to exist. There was only each moment, each blow, each block, each second of baited anticipation for the next move. He was starving, and every pained wince from his opponent was ambrosia. Every hit he took was nearly as delicious. His body screamed in protest, and his body screamed for _more_.

Once again, his feet were swept from under him, and his back hit the mat. He panted, and wiped a sweatband across his brow as he pushed himself up. " _Rippa._ 'ow was _that_ then?"

The man went for a towel to put off answering a few moments before finally admitting, "You did last a little longer that time. Even if you're still blindly reckless." Nah. His eyes and fists just had to work on syncing up more. "And you sorely need to work on your defenses."

Valon sniffed a syllable of a laugh. "Best defense is a good offense, mate."

He got an unamused leer in response. "Perhaps at times, but it's gonna take a lot better than yours for that to be the case…"

The teen grinned. "Guess I'll just have to get better, then…"

"Tick-tock, tick- _tock._ Cut the chitchat," Amelda griped.

"Mm? You _say_ something?" Valon feigned, subtly daring the younger boy to rush him again.

"Oh right, sorry. I forgot to say it in gibberish."

And that quickly, Valon was over the side of the ring and face-to-face with the little thorn in his side, holding his shirt collar. " _That's_ funny. I'da _sworn_ you still had bruises from _last_ time, but you're acting like you don't remember where insulting me gets ya."

Amelda said nothing, though his cold gray stare held an air of silent defiance.

"Valon, I swear to God," the instructor said. "I'd be lying if I said I don't _care_ that this is the best-paying job I've had, but if I have to watch you threaten a literal child _every other day_ I can and will still refuse to teach you."

Valon's heart skipped a beat as his eyes flashed with the closest thing to fear he'd felt in ages. As Amelda shifted into a smug smirk, though, bitter spite soon replaced the feeling as he shoved Amelda away. "You're lucky I've got class to get to." Refusing to leave without some final jab, he jeered, "Catch you later, Amy."

" _Amelda_ ," he snapped back. "Or is that too big a word to remember?"

Valon was already to the door, and no comeback came to mind, so he just made sure to slam it on his way out instead. Bloody _hell_ , that kid got on every one of Valon's nerves. And that alone might be okay, but the fact that he couldn't _do_ anything about it ate him alive.

And of all the things he could have taken to digging at with every opportunity, he had to pick Valon's intelligence and his accent.

As if he didn't _know_ his vernacular was a garbled bloody mess.

He wasn't always this bad. But in the past five years, he'd been moved so many times. Each center's staff had locals from whatever part of the country he was in at the time, but the other boys sometimes came from all over. He was sure there were folks on both sides from out in the back of beyond, whose speech was dated or otherwise unusual. Others were bound to have been from the big cities, using passing fads of phrases that wouldn't last the year.

Valon rarely got the backstories for the things he picked up. He didn't do much _talking_ to other folks in general. Talking often led to arguments, and arguments led to brawls, and brawls led to solitary. Either due to being stuck there or trying to avoid getting sent back for at least a little while, he mostly listened. And he just sort of absorbed… everything. From everywhere.

He was more than used to getting weird looks, even back home, but at least most folks left it at that.

He'd often considered trying to 'normalize' his speech, but that would require a solid understanding of what parts were deemed 'normal' and which parts were under scrutiny, which was something he could only continue to pick up over time.

At least if he was able to stay in one spot here, it would probably keep shifting to something more 'acceptable'. But then, that sort of made him bitter, too. It was frustrating when folks didn't understand him, but the idea of changing any part of who he was to fit someone else's expectations just inherently pissed him off.

But now he'd reached the room where his Geometry tutor was waiting, so he did his best to rationalize that as long as the change was gradual over time and not a conscious effort, it would just be a pleasant side effect that he earned less ire for it, rather than that being the motivation.

Once he settled in, though, the lesson was actually a pretty effective distraction.

Valon didn't _entirely_ hate reading, but he wasn't especially fast at it, and he often spaced out or lost track of his place and had to reread to actually process the words, _and_ he didn't care to sit still for longer than he had to without feeling fully engaged with something. All those things combined to such effect that literature could be hard to deal with… And… grammar. Ha. Hahaha… So, despite the age gap, he and Amelda shared their Language Arts lessons… and Amelda usually did better at them. Despite English being his second language. Fucking overachieving show-off.

Science was more interesting, sometimes, but it still required a lot of reading and memorizing facts, and Valon didn't always retain things well when he didn't have a practical application for them. Physics were fascinating. He cared far less about the biology of a cell or how breeding flowers worked. So he and Amelda shared their Science classes, and which of them did better depended very much on the subject matter they were covering that week.

History was a God-awful nightmare. Memorizing facts he'd _never_ use in real life? That alone sounded awful. Combine that with the fact that Dartz took "World History" to a new level and expected them to learn individual histories and politics and cultures for _so many_ countries, plenty of which Valon wasn't sure if he'd even _heard_ of prior to this class?

Oh, and don't forget geography. He felt like he'd get that more in time, since it was just building identification association for a fixed set of visual information, but crikey he wanted to know whose bloody idea it was to have so many states over here. Australia was a _continent_ and Valon could have rambled all its territories off _fine._ But no. Since he was apparently a Floridian from now on, of course he had to learn _this_ bullshit first.

At any rate, Amelda ate all this crap for dinner, with a special brand of obsession for wars and politics, so he was actually taking _more advanced_ Social Studies lessons than Valon…

But math.

Numbers were concrete. Numbers made sense. Learning new formulas sometimes took a little more effort than not, but once he had them, he could do so much. Sure, maybe he didn't use all this _directly_ on a daily basis or anything, but he technically _could_ if he really wanted. Sometimes, if he was especially bored and had few options available, he'd sit and try to estimate the angle of a particular arc, or how long it would take to travel to a particular place, just to keep his mind occupied.

Once, his tutor was late, so he measured the distance from his seat to the trash can and the height of both, then calculated the best point to release an average sized paper wad to get it to arc perfectly into the can. He'd gone through almost an entire notebook by the time the tutor arrived, but he made 87 of 100 shots, and most of the misses were in the beginning as he got his hand to cooperate with his brain. He probably didn't really _need_ to do the math, and could have just done trial and error to find the right feel; that was every bit as much if not more Valon's style, really. But it had given him something extra to do.

So, to his great relief, math was a class he got to have alone, _and_ do far better in than Amelda.

Not that he compared every little thing he did now to Amelda, or anything. After all, it wasn't like _everything_ in life had to be a compe-

He snorted a laugh. Good one, Valon, yes it fucking did.

* * *

Farbeit from Dartz to question the divine intent of their master, but with every week that went by, they did ease the slightest hair closer to considering it.

They could see the merit of indoctrinating a servant at a young age, most certainly. Each swordsman would accept the teachings of the Orichalcos more wholeheartedly for having learned them from a more impressionable age, and the combination of being rescued from such hellish circumstances and the familiarity bred through a caretaker dynamic would most assuredly produce a level of loyalty other servants would be hard-pressed to match without supernatural adjustments.

These principles worked excellently in theory.

...Or when there was a single child.

Dartz could not _believe_ that they and Iona had once discussed the idea of a second one of their own. Nor could they believe that their thoughts were once again returning to that family given up so many millenia ago. It was somewhat concerning how frequently that had begun to happen as of late.

But back to the matter at hand, Dartz knew they could not go against the will of their god, and if that meant tolerating the incessant bickering and constant skirmishes until the boys had grown into adults, they would simply have to live with that.

… But _if_ their master might be willing to offer any advice for perhaps somewhat reducing that time…

An idea slowly came to them, and although they were unsure of some of the logistics, they were grateful for the response.

"With all due respect, Master…" Amelda started hesitantly, but finished flatly. "This is the worst idea you've ever had."

"I gotta say, for once I agree," added Valon.

Dartz wasn't sure whether to be more offended at their insolence or pleasantly surprised at their cooperation. Perhaps that in itself was the intent? Time would tell.

The plan itself, however, was to have them duel- and not with duel disks, for that was too grandiose, but with cards at a small table: a small, intimate affair. The loser would then have to devote a minimum of two hours helping the winner catch up in a subject in which they were having difficulty. If Valon won, Amelda would have to help him with his history homework. If Amelda won, Valon would have to help him with self defense training.

"You know he's going to lose on purpose just to have an excuse to beat on me, right?"

That… had sort of been what Dartz was thinking, as well, but they didn't want to say anything. They tried to collect their thoughts and form a reassuring response, but Valon spoke first. "I'm sorry, mate. 'ave we met? I admit there ain't a whole _lot_ I love more than a good barney, but there ain't much I ' _ate_ more than _losin'_ , either."

Right, yes. "You see? I'm certain you two can conduct a fair and challenging duel."

"...Okay, but you understand it's still a lose-lose for me, right? I don't want his help and I don't want to waste my time trying to help him."

Dartz took a deep breath. Was this really necessary. Would leaving Valon alone another year have really hurt the grand scheme of events? Amelda had been such a quiet and polite boy for those first few months… "This duel is happening," Dartz said firmly. Thankfully, the boys recognized this tone as non-negotiable.

"...Oi, Dartz. Can we 'ave a bit to build a new deck for this?"

Dartz considered it, and could see no downside to having them practice strategy. "An excellent idea. We shall reconvene in one hour, so spend this time wisely."

"...We?" asked Amelda.

"Indeed. I do intend to oversee this duel personally to ensure the stakes are properly carried out."

"...Great."

* * *

Just great. Amelda's only silver lining was that at least _whatever_ happened, it would only be two hours.

He was sure Dartz had some absurd hope that forcing them to spend more time together than was absolutely necessary would somehow help them bond, or that aiding one another would somehow build some level of endearment. But hopefully, he could kick Valon's ass in this duel, prove that the moron wasn't worth his time to try to tutor, and never have to deal with something like this again.

Of course, Valon had to go and make that plan more difficult by building the most obnoxious deck. It had few to no _offenses_ , mostly walls and damage absorption and ways to stall, which was the literal opposite of Valon's style. What the _hell_ did he think he was doing?

He had several cards that granted Amelda life points, and seemingly none to restore his own. And he had several cards to let him make extra draws, as if he was searching for something… But what? Surely not the Seal of Orichalcos; he had to know Dartz would immediately unlock it and punish him for trying. But what then?

All the while, the older boy wore the same unreadable air of confident ease. Amelda was nearing 8000 life points, between his own effects and Valon's card costs. And Valon had fallen under his final thousand. So what the hell was he so _smug_ about? Unless he _was_ planning to lose on purpose? Amelda would definitely be protesting if that looked to be the case.

"I'll place one monster in face-down defense, then lay another card face-down and end my turn."

Those were his only cards for the moment. A desperate final attempt, a carefully calculated trap, or a blatant throw of the match? Amelda supposed he had life points to spare. He glanced up to Dartz, who remained stone-faced throughout the duel, then resolved to take the risk.

"First I'll switch my O-Lion to attack mode, and then attack your monster with my Sabre-Hawk," Amelda ordered.

"Oh, bother," Valon feigned horribly, revealing his card to be Machina Peacekeeper. "So I guess I can get one Union monster from my deck." Out of all five cards left there, Amelda was surprised he still had one. Even if Valon somehow mitigated damage this round, he was going to lose by deckout soon enough. Did he really have a plan he was still trying to salvage, or had he just intentionally played a horribly weak card?

Whatever. "Unless that last face-down card can save you, my O-Lion will be taking the rest of your life points now."

Valon grinned too wide; so he _did_ have a plan? "Not so fast, mate~ I activate _Self-Destruct Button!_ "

Amelda's heart stopped. "... _WHAT?_ "

"Whenever I activate this lil beaut' and my opponent has over 7000 life points more than I do, both our life points drop to-"

" _Zero_ , I _know_ what it _does_ , Valon!" Amelda spat. "But _why?_ "

Valon offered a dramatic easy shrug. "I told ya, mate. I don't like losin'."

"But you still want the excuse to fight, is that it?" That stupid smirk just made Amelda's stomach sink lower.

"Ya might say that…" He turned his smug expression toward their master, now. "Unless ol' Dartz 'ere wants to let us _both_ off the hook seein' as 'ow _neither_ of us really lost…"

It seemed Dartz couldn't quite hide a smile. "It seems I may have underestimated you," came the amused response. "But to the contrary, I believe I shall rule that for the purposes of this duel, you both 'won', and you should both receive your promised rewards."

Amelda's hand moved to his face, elbow propping him on the table. "Yeah. 'Rewards'," he grumbled.

"Valon…"

"Aye?"

"Since you orchestrated this particular turn of events, it seems fitting that I allow you to choose which to do first."

Amelda wanted this year to be over. Even sharper, he muttered, "No points for guessing right…"

* * *

Sure enough, within the hour, they stood in the ring, and Amelda found himself debating whether to not even try or go all-out. Dartz was supervising again, so he felt slightly safer than usual even if not entirely so, and he could try to channel all his rage into doing what damage he was able. Or, he could just… not bother?

"C'mon, then, Melody. Show me what you can do!"

Oh, for fuck's sake. "It's _Amelda._ "

And he _tried_ to pick the all-out option, only to find himself almost immediately on his stomach, Valon twisting his arm behind him, the older boy's knee in his back. He found himself somewhere between desperately struggling and bracing himself for impact… but none followed.

"Wha'd'ya doin'?" Valon asked. To Amelda's surprise, it was not a taunt, but an actual question.

"...I just…" He clenched his jaw and mumbled, "Just let me up already."

"What good would that do?"

Uh. "We could try again?" Amelda replied dryly.

"Ain't no do-overs in a real fight, mate. Course there ain't a pause button, neither, but I'm willin' ta give ya that much. You can get outta this."

"...What?"

"See, first off, ya can't be afraid o' gettin' a little banged up. Ya've gotta be willin' to take whatever's necessary to make sure you come out on top in th'end."

Amelda considered some snark about how that was easy for _him_ to say when he was almost always on the giving end during their exchanges, but then recalled Valon earlier _begging_ their instructor-proper for more punishment despite no chance of victory. He sighed his concession. "Okay, great. Got it. But are you just gonna keep my like this until I figure out how to get out, or?"

That chuckle was borderline condescending. "Look, mate. I left you an arm and most o' both legs free. Now, you can't very well just push yaself right up with me up 'ere, but all my weight's focused on this side, see?" He loosened his hold a bit, and Amelda tried to take advantage of that only to have it immediately tightened. "Now 'ang on, no cheatin'. You're gonna do this fair dinkum."

Amelda wasn't sure if he was more annoyed at the slang in general or the fact that he'd been around Valon long enough to know what that one meant.

Again, Valon loosed his hold, and Amelda lay still as he leaned enough to offer a quite literal hands-on instruction of how to move. "You got it?"

"This doesn't sound super advisable for the arm you're holding," Amelda protested.

"Can't say there won't come a day when it won't be your arm or your life, mate. Worry about your injuries after you win." He resumed his previous hold. "Now give 'er a go."

That philosophy sounded insane, yet… also resonated with him. He'd let himself get comfortable living here with Dartz, where he was safe from everyone except this loud jerk, who was really an annoyance at worst in the grand scheme. Amelda had almost forgotten- or perhaps more accurately, blocked out- the feeling of being truly desperate to survive. But when he reached to draw on that, it was a feeling he knew far too well, and was able to retrieve far too easily.

Mustering everything inside him, he followed Valon's instructions, rolling the older boy off him and twisting his restrained arm from his grasp. ...That felt easier than he expected? "You didn't just _let_ me throw you, did you?"

"Ha! Ankle-biter's got some fire in 'im after all. Nah mate, I didn't especially brace against it on account o' knowin' exactly what you'd do, since that'd be cheatin' on my end. But you kinda surprised me; I didn' think you could apply that much force." Amelda wasn't really sure how to reply to that, but he didn't have time to, anyway. "Fight's still on, though! Av-a-go-ya-mug!"

Amelda scrambled to put some distance between them, but it didn't take long for Valon to get him into another compromising position… at which point he once again stopped to explain Amelda's options for getting free.

This whole experience was a little surreal. His proper classes focused on techniques and practiced moves in a repetitive, controlled manner. And it had helped him a lot, and he was definitely a lot stronger and more capable of taking care of himself for it. But Valon had no 'moves'. "No rules on the streets," apparently. And this sort of case-by-case sporadic approach was making him think outside the box. Sometimes he recognized elements of techniques he knew, but he was starting to understand how they worked on a deconstructed and more reactionary level.

But strangest of all was that Valon was so… good-natured about it? He was still entirely too eager about the entire thing, and Amelda was pretty sure he went a little farther than necessary before stopping at least a few different times, but.. He was? Actually helping? And seemed to be enjoying the actual helping as much as the parts in-between.

A little over an hour in, Amelda finally stopped to ask, "Why are you doing this?"

"..Wha'? Well when you tried that left hook I just-"

"No not that. This. This whole. Thing." Amelda waved his hands in an encompassing gesture.

"Ah. Well it was part o' the deal, right? I'm just 'olding up my end."

That wasn't a satisfying answer. "But you set this up. And even if you _were_ hoping Dartz would just let us both off the hook, you could have just humiliated me for a few hours while pretending to offer critique. Why are you taking this _seriously?_ "

Valon crossed his arms and tilted his head, a slightly baffled expression on his face. "Sorry, mate. 'ave we met?" He flashed a cheeky grin. "You an' me are _both_ gonna be doin' this whole tutoring thing, yeah? That means I've gotta make sure I do a better job at it than you do."

… Amelda _shouldn't_ have been surprised, but he was. He should have found it insufferable that anyone could be _this_ competitive, but a wry hint of a smile found its way to his lips all the same. "But would that make you the better teacher, or me the better student?"

Valon's smile disappeared. … "I'll be both," he insisted.

For what may have been the first time in the months they'd known each other, Amelda laughed with rather than at Valon. "And how do you plan to do that, exactly?"

"Still workin' on that part, but I'll find a way." He shrugged confidently.

"It sounds like I'll need to get creative myself, then."

Dartz still watched quietly from the sidelines, and though they said nothing, Amelda thought they looked a little more smug than usual when he glanced over. How the scheming bastard knew any good would come of this was beyond him, but Amelda found himself ever so slightly grateful.

This was probably a long enough break, though, so they both took just a minute more to get some water and got back to it.

At the end of the day, Amelda had reluctantly thanked Valon, then pushed through some initial awkwardness to ask what exactly it was Valon found so difficult about history. The answer was guarded, dismissive and incomplete; and it was quite clear Amelda had touched a nerve by asking. But with minimal pushing, he thought he had a pretty decent idea.

He asked Dartz if he could have a little time to prepare Valon's own lesson. Dartz warned him not to put it off forever, but Amelda had no intention of doing so. His plan was just a little… ambitious.

* * *

A few days later, Valon finally showed up for said lesson. Flopping back into his seat, he asked, "So what's the big surprise already, mm?"

Amelda moved to stand across the table from Valon and placed both palms flat on the table with some force. "All right! Are you ready to start learning some world history?"

Valon blinked, slowly looked to the textbook between them, then looked back up to Amelda. "I mean I thought tha's what I was 'ere for, but if there's other options no one told me…" Amelda picked up the book and, without breaking eye contact, threw it over his shoulder and across the room. "?! 'ave you gone bloody mental?"

Amelda pulled up a seat of his own and took it, then reached into a bag that he carried and slammed a small box onto the table. "Let's face it, Valon. You weren't gonna get much use out of that book anyway."

His nerves flared; his muscles tensed. "You _seriously_ gonna do this ' _ere_ , mate?" He wasn't going to sit here if Amelda was just going to tell him he-why was that little shit smirking.

"You misunderstand. Allow me to explain." Valon squinted skeptically, but tried to relax as he watched Amelda pull out the contents of his box: mostly cards and miniatures, along with one large map. "You see, you and I are going to play a little game I've made."

Squinting intensified… "Go on…"

An hour later, Valon was absolutely floored by not only the amount of preparation, but how well this was _working._ Amelda had put together a game loosely based on Risk, but that felt more like playing Duel Monsters. Each country had its own stat card, and countries were divided up into miniature decks of rough contemporaries. They started with the oldest recorded civilizations, and once all those were in play, they moved up to the next-oldest set.

Each of them vied to control as much of the map as they could, but it wasn't so simple as having mere game pieces. Each country had unique stats and abilities based on aspects of its history, so some provided more military aid, and others more income, and so-forth. As their timeline progressed, Amelda had prepared upgraded and downgraded versions that they'd pick up when the time came.

And had Valon read about the interactions between Nubia and Egypt in ancient times, there was a very real chance that he wouldn't remember it five minutes later. But here, in the context of it affecting his gameplay and his odds of beating (or at least not being completely humiliated by) Amelda, he easily remembered how having control of both pieces affected his score and how they had interacted when Amelda had one, before Valon managed to win it from him.

It was admittedly a very complicated game, and could probably use some fine-tuning. Not to mention that it would probably take him numerous playthroughs to mentally separate what aspects were inherent details of the countries/cards and what was brought on through creative license and competitive gameplay. And Amelda openly admitted this was a pretty rushed and gloss-over version, including only major world powers throughout history and omitting both a lot in general and plenty of the more detailed history of those included.

But in having this way of applying and associating information, Valon was retaining _any_ of it. He was developing a more solid framework on which to later add the other pieces.

He didn't notice them reaching the two hour mark. Or three.

After a roughly five hour game session, Dartz had come to check in on them, as marveled as Valon was.

"...All right, mate. Much as I 'ate to admit it, you _definitely_ won at this whole teaching thing." Over-achieving little bastard… All the same, Valon was smiling.

Amelda gave his smuggest look. "I did, didn't I?"

Valon rolled his eyes, but there was a tinge of affection to it for once. "Yeah, yeah. Good on ya." Hesitantly, he asked, "... So 'ey. I know the deal was only for the one time, but… Since you went to all the trouble o' makin' all this…"

Was… Was that a hint of a blush, or was Valon seeing things? "You know… If I recall correctly, the exact words were ' _a minimum_ of two hours', but there wasn't really a _maximum…_ Isn't that right… Master Dartz?"

Dartz nodded and cooed, "That would indeed be correct, my child."

Valon perked up; that _was_ right! "... Well with that bein' the case an' all, it seems only fair that if you eva feel like goin' a few rounds, I'd prob'ly be up fo' offerin' some more tips any time."

"I _guess_ that doesn't sound entirely terrible." Amelda was _definitely_ blushing faintly, and Valon tried not to grin _too_ much about that.

Dartz hummed a note. "It's nice to see you two finally growing accustomed to one another. I trust this means I can expect somewhat less trouble out of you from here on?"

It probably wasn't really meant as a question so much as a gentle nudge. But all the same, Valon cocked an eyebrow and asked, "I'm sorry, mate. 'ave we met?"

Dartz went just a little bit pale…


	4. Home for the Holidays

The fighting never stopped, but over the following year, it did become _somewhat_ less frequent, and shifted greatly in tone. There was still true hostility from time to time, but more often it seemed like a game. Dartz, while at times still annoyed by the antics, was overall pleased by this development. In a way, it served to keep their physical and mental skills sharp. He could deal with this.

Somewhat less pleasing, ironically, was their growing sense of comradery.

In theory, this was good. That they would be devoted to each other, to him, to the eventual third Musketeer, and to no one else should have been an ideal situation. At times, they could both be incredibly mature for their age, or at least by the standards of this era in history.

Amelda, especially, could keep a level head in nearly any situation, so long as he was not directly challenged or very select nerves touched. He was excelling at all his studies, and had started showing significant prowess with technology.

Valon, meanwhile, remained impulsive and hotheaded, but had become better at choosing his battles. What he lacked in raw talent he more than made up for with determination, which was not to say that he did not have some impressive talents of his own.

One such talent that Dartz found particularly perplexing was the strange sense of optimism the boy had developed. There had been hints of it even when Dartz met him back on the island, but he never expected it to blossom like this. At this point, he truly wasn't certain if the boy's outgoing attitude was a defense mechanism- ignoring rather than dwelling upon his troubled past, the way introverted Amelda did- or if he really was unbothered.

Then again, while the latter might have been cause for concern in another scenario, for Dartz's purposes, both worked. By this point, Valon was well aware of the nature of the Orichalcos, and exactly how many souls he had claimed, effectively damning in the process. He knew the bodies of the peers he'd defeated were long gone, and that although part of them still "lived", it was only to await their eventual fate as sacrifice. For all intents and purposes, between his time on the island and the missions he'd been able to accompany since, he had the blood of nearly a hundred men on his hands. Regardless of the reasons why, the fact that he seemed to carry no guilt for his actions was _most_ excellent, indeed. This would be a necessary trait for his Swordsmen.

Not one to be outdone, Amelda had been quick to embrace the teachings as well. Neither of them went out often- not yet- but Amelda did actively seek opportunities to claim a number of souls for Dartz, simply to prove his loyalty and ability. In the very beginning, he had expressed some qualms, but was easily swayed by the reminder that this bitter world left no one innocent. It was only once mankind had been properly cleansed that there would be an end to war and chaos, and any hope for peace. If not already as guiltless as Valon, he would likely be soon.

Indeed, both were shaping into fine future soldiers, who embraced and followed his teachings with the same passionate fervor they applied to everything they did.

They were, quite often, remarkable young men.

But right now, at this moment, they were also _teenagers_. Amelda had turned 13 the previous spring, and Valon would be 15 soon. And although Dartz could write off the bickering, it was harder to ignore the _conspiring._

It seemed once a week that some underling came to him with another complaint. Sometimes that number was an exaggeration; other times he would have killed to hear it less than daily. At least twice, an unlucky messenger found him willing to prove that.

What had caused the upper level blackout last week? Who spraypainted crudely drawn Duel Monsters on the wall of the conference room? Where had the microwave gone from the employees's 7th-story break room? What could they possibly want with a microwave? Some questions Dartz didn't even want answers for.

He was usually inclined to suspect Valon for such senseless mischief… but to his equal parts pride and chagrin, he knew _Amelda knew_ he was inclined to suspect Valon, and knew Amelda was absolutely likely to use that to his advantage. Of course, he was also quite certain that sometimes- perhaps even more often than not- they were working together.

Why? He gathered such mischief was often deemed 'normal' for children this age, but why. He'd blame it on boredom, but they had resources at their disposal limited _only_ by Dartz's approval and the state of the world itself. If something _existed_ , and Dartz so no reason to withhold it from them, it could be theirs. Both tended to be fairly modest about asking- a result of humble origins, he'd suspect- but if they were bored enough to _carve words in the walls_ , surely they could have asked for an alternative? Which led Dartz to conclude it wasn't boredom, but. _Why…_

This was probably something else he was better off just ignoring. He only wished he knew what to _do_ about it. Destiny chose these boys, and he needed to ensure they remained by his side until the time came for Leviathan to awaken. He tried not to let them have entirely free reign, but what punishments were even appropriate that wouldn't risk driving them away…

"Leviathan, give me strength…" he mumbled just thinking about it.

… Incidentally, it might be worth checking in on them…

Dartz sang a quiet incantation to scry, and saw them, thankfully, sitting peacefully in Amelda's room, playing one of their newer games. Each stared intently into his own handheld device- the two connected by a cable- even as they jeered one another.

"You're in for it now," Amelda boasted. "Now you'll get to see why Blastoise is the best starter."

"We'll see about that. Don' go underestimatin' my mate Charizard."

Ah, right, this game. Dartz wasn't sure what the appeal was in battling virtual creatures in 2D when they could practice dueling with their Duel Disks- a luxury so far ahead of its time that no one outside the company and a few of their private facilities could know of them just yet. But if it kept them out of trouble, he saw no harm in allowing such indulgences.

Apparently, something had gone very much Valon's way in their little game, and indicated by his loud, "Woo-HOO! 'AT's what I'm talkin' about!"

Ever so subtly, Amelda brushed his end of the link cable, severing their connection. "Oh, whoops."

" _Rat bastard!_ I _won_ that fight!" Valon protested.

"I didn't see my HP hit zero. Besides, that was a cheap move anyway."

"...You did that on _purpose_ , didn' ya!"

" _No_ ," Amelda lied. "I just accidentally bumped it!"

And there they went, their games abandoned to wrestle instead. Dartz rolled his two-toned eyes. Well, he knew Valon shouldn't actually be _too_ worked up over something like this, and Amelda had gotten pretty good at holding his own, so he wasn't concerned.

Well, while he was here, he supposed he could also check in on the other lad.

A slightly altered scrying spell brought him the image of a blond young man, barely 17. A year ago, Dartz had reached out to touch his mind, orchestrating events to lead to his rescue from the island where he'd lived alone for three long years.

Since then, Dartz had kept an eye on him, watching as his faith in humanity dwindled more each day. He was not quite broken- not quite yet- but he inched ever closer, Dartz occasionally whispering to him through the void to encourage the process. He knew it would soon be time to reach out in person. Perhaps not in weeks or months, but within the next year at most, he would suspect.

This time, he would have to remember to discuss it with the other boys _first_ , once the time was right, lest they suffer a repeat of last time...

* * *

Contrary to belief, Valon could be incredibly patient if he wanted to be. Right now, with so much planned for the day, he didn't want to be.

It was something of a rare occurrence that the boys actually went out on the town. Amelda didn't really like to be out around people without a pretty compelling reason, and Valon wasn't allowed outside a half-mile radius without an escort, anymore.

Which was usually pretty okay, he guessed; there was a lot to do within the building, and plenty of people to bug if he went down to the employee levels especially, and the grounds weren't _too_ bad if he was just itching to get some sunshine and stretch his legs. But he did get restless sometimes, and greatly enjoyed every change of scenery he got.

And fortunately, today, Amelda counted as escort enough. So their plan was to have lunch, see a movie, and do their Christmas shopping, then see if they had time to do anything else… if _someone_ would hurry up and finish getting ready.

But when Amelda finally did appear, he had to prompt Valon: "Hey. Are you ready to go, or what?"

And it was only at that point that Valon realized he must have spent a good minute staring. Amelda had pulled his hair back into a tight, low ponytail; he clearly put a lot more effort into his wardrobe today than usual; and even his face just looked… a little different, somehow, though Valon couldn't place how or why. Maybe it was just from the different hairstyle? But it…

"Val, what's your deal?"

Well shit, that must have been a good 30 seconds more. He finally shook it off, answering, "Sorry, mate. You just look-... different today's all."

Amelda rolled his eyes and put on an annoyed expression, but Valon knew him well enough to catch his subtle self-conscious withdraw. "I just thought I'd try something new. That a problem?"

"Not at all, mate! It looks- nice." He could tell Amelda was catching his awkward breaks, and knew he'd probably take them the wrong way. But Valon couldn't bring himself to admit that what he _wanted_ to say was 'really cute'. Looking to deflect from that, he joked, "You're makin' me feel underdressed, now." Not that there was anything _wrong_ with Valon's t-shirt and khakis; they were just something plain and comfortable he wore all the time, compared to Mr. Suddenly Fashionable.

"You know you could always go change," Amelda half-teased.

" 'ave you bloody lost it? I'm rarin' to go _now_! I ain't about to put this off longer just for _clothes_." He jumped to his feel, shot Amelda a grin, and motioned as he said, "C'mon! Let's 'ave at 'er."

Together, they hurried to the ground level, where a chaperone was waiting to drive them downtown. As they entered and he greeted them, Valon swiped the keys off the man's desk and excitedly headed toward the door. " _Hold_ up," came the stern voice.

"Aw _c'mon_ ," Valon whined. "I've got me permit and everythin'! Can't you just ride shotgun?"

"..You've had it for like a month," Amelda murmured, sounding none too thrilled at the prospect of Valon driving.

The _nerve_. First off, it was more like a month and a half, and second, "I only need ta 'ave one at _all_. Well, an' for a _grown-up_ to come along for the ride, I guess, but that's what this bloke's for."

The man pursed his lips. "While that may be true, young master, the city streets can be somewhat… _hectic_ … for an amateur driver. I have explicit instructions not to let you take the wheel until you've had more practice."

Valon opened his mouth to protest, but somehow before he knew it, he and Amelda were both in the back of a limo while he sat pouting about how he at least would have liked to take one of the sportier cars.

"I don't really get why you're so excited about driving _anyway_ ," Amelda commented. "It seems terrifying to me."

"Really?" It wasn't disbelieving so much as mildly surprised. "Think o' 'ow much freedom the open road offers, though."

"Ih." Amelda shrugged. "Really, if I could, I'd rather _fly…_ "

Valon blinked. "Oh?" He _did_ have an awful lot of model planes and choppers and such among his collection of various figures and miniatures, so that made sense, he supposed.

"There's even more freedom up in the sky, and it's so much safer. Do you know how rare plane crashes are compared to car accidents?"

"Not really, but I'll take your word for it."

Amelda shifted a bit as he admitted, "I've started looking into it, you know… What it takes to be a pilot, and how different controls work, and…"

Valon smiled. "Well good on ya, mate. With the way _you_ pick things up, I'm sure you'll have no problems learnin' ta fly whateva ya heart wants~"

Amelda blushed slightly; Valon loved and hated when that happened. "Heh. Thanks, Val."

Gee, look at this silence that definitely wasn't awkward because Valon definitely wasn't staring again. Someone should do something about that. "So 'ey, should I get you one o' them fancy aviator's caps or somethin'?" Valon playfully teased.

Amelda's laugh was borderline questioning. "I don't really think people actually wear those anymore. Or at least not for practical purposes. Just as a _ridiculously_ dorky accessory." Valon became uncharacteristically withdrawn; unfortunately, Amelda noticed. "What is it?"

He hesitantly mulled the words over in his mouth before admitting through a pout, "I think they look pretty neat…" Amelda's snort really didn't help. "Or at least the goggles," Valon clarified. "I guess them ear flappy bits are a li'l silly-lookin'." ….. "What're you smilin' about?"

"Nothing." Mm-hm. Well, Valon was sure he'd see in time.

As a passing biker caught his eye, though, he asked, "How ya feel about motorbikes?"

"Hm?" Amelda gave that some thought. "I dunno… They're smaller, so I think I'd feel a little more in control. And… they do look pretty cool," he admitted. "I might be able to get more behind that."

"Mm. Good ta know."

* * *

"And you're sure you both have your phones?" the driver asked. "I'll be in the neighborhood running errands, so be sure to call if you need anything. And be back here preferably by six, no later than seven."

"Yeah, yeah, we know. We're not wee tykes." Well, Amelda was still pretty slight, but he'd been growing pretty fast lately, so he was almost as _tall_ as Valon now, at least, even if Valon was still a lot broader. "Now g'on, we'll be fine." They would mostly be staying in the mall area, after all, if perhaps migrating to a few of the nearby stores depending on the selection and time.

As they headed inside to find movie times and start getting an idea of which stores to hit up, they couldn't help but take in the festive scenery. A third of the store fronts had Christmas lights, and most of the others at least had some sort of tinsel or wreaths or the like. 'Jingle Bell Rock' played softly over the mall speakers. Large paper snowflakes ranging probably one to three meters across hung from the ceiling far above; and at the first crossroads, a huge display was set up, including a ten meter Christmas tree and a sprawling fake snow set. Valon still felt weird associating snow with Christmas, especially since it was _still_ a.. Ha, _snowball's chance in hell_ to see it in Florida.. And, of course, there was a chair for Santa himself.

When they passed, Santa happened to be up walking around, and waved at them. "And what do _you_ kids want for Christmas?" he asked jovially.

" 'ere to find out," Valon chimed back.

"How young does he think we are?" Amelda asked, pointedly to Valon rather than addressing Santa.

Santa, however, just chuckled. "Oh, you're never too old to believe in Santa, little girl~" He gave a playful wink, and the shift to confused hurt when Amelda just quietly flipped him off and walked away was entirely too much for Valon to watch with a straight face.

Still stifling his laugh as he caught up, Valon urged, "Awww, c'mon, Mel, 'e didn' mean nothin' by it."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Machismo," he snapped back. "And I _really_ hate it when you shorten my name."

"Tou _chy_..." Valon mumbled to himself.

For the movie they decided on, Prince of Egypt, they could either jump in a showing that started ten minutes ago and hope the previews ran long, or they could wait about two hours, so they decided to get food first.

They found a nice-ish place nearby- or nicer than the food court, at least- and placed their drink orders. As they looked over the menu, Valon commented, "I'm still kinda surprised you wanna see this. You're not usually inta cartoons an' musicals an' the sort."

Amelda shrugged. "It's supposed to be derived from a combination of Biblical account, historical evidence, and artistic license, so I guess I'm sort of curious to see their take. That and Master Dartz always says that Ancient Egypt had a strong connection with Duel Monsters, perhaps even more directly than Atlantis did, so even if I don't exactly expect it, it might be kind of fun to see if we can spot any possible connections in the scenery and such."

"... Huh. All right, I s'pose that makes sense enough." Leave it to Amelda to rationalize to that degree, he supposed. All the same, those were some legitimately interesting points.

"What about you?"

"...I dunno." Valon grimaced. "I mean… I was sorta raised in church for a few years, ya know? Literally _in_ a church. I'm not sure if I believe that stuff anymore, and on one hand, bugger me if it's true, 'cause I'm right thoroughly _fucked_." He forced a laugh, but it was painfully ingenuine. "But then.. I've still got a sorta fondness, too, I guess? I'm sure that sounds daft, but..."

He didn't expect the sincerity in Amelda's eyes when he finally looked back to him. "It's something familiar from a simpler time. Or maybe something that helps you feel connected to the people you loved and lost, sort of like how I'll always have a fondness for mecha because I associate them with Miruko. It doesn't seem that strange you'd find such an association comforting."

Valon stared for at least five seconds, perhaps closer to ten. "Y'know, sometimes it's just downright unfair how smart you can be. Leave some for the rest of us, mate."

Amelda chuckled softly.

Not long after, the waiter returned with their drinks to take their orders. Valon ordered a seafood platter (and would punch anyone who made a 'shrimp on the barbie' joke), and the waiter turned to Amelda. "And for you, miss?"

Valon watched Amelda's whole demeanor darken, and felt his own stomach sink a bit on his behalf. Amelda grudgingly ordered his food without bothering to correct the waiter, then when the man had gone rested his elbows on the table and held his face in both hands.

"... Hey. 'sall right, mate."

Sharp gray eyes shifted up to pierce him, then Amelda's arms crossed with some force against the table. "No. You know what? It's not 'all right, mate'. It's _exhausting,_ and I think I've got the right to be a little bit pissed."

Valon had seen him get defensive about his appearance or masculinity tons of times, but never quite like this. He wanted to comfort him, but also didn't want to sound dismissive? Of course, knowing he wanted to strike that balance and actually knowing how to do so were two very different things. "It's probably just-" Butterflies!? Calm down, Amelda's ego needed the boost right now, so just… Play it cool and casual, no big deal. "You're _really_ fuckin' cute sometimes." Right yes that didn't sound at all like a big deal, excellent job Valon. Attempting to recover, he added, "Another year or two an' I'm sure the girls'll be all over ya."

Amelda seemed no less annoyed, muttering, "I don't really care about girls…"

Hm? Was he just still in the 'girls have cooties' stage, or… "Blokes too, if that's your thing."

And _that_ earned a death glare. Valon was on _fire_ today… or would be if Amelda had his way, he was sure. "Literally the _last_ thing I want is a guy who thinks I'm 'feminine enough'."

Valon opened his mouth, then shut it, then rested his chin against his hand and averted his gaze before mumbling, "I didn't mean quite like that…"

It was quiet for probably a minute before Amelda finally sighed. "Sorry for snapping. I know this isn't your fault."

Valon did appreciate the apology, but shrugged. "She's apples, mate."

"Maybe I should cut my hair shorter…"

"Mm?" Valon looked him over. "I dunno, I think it looks good long."

"So do I, but…" Amelda sighed again. "I can't really remember having it much shorter than shoulder length, and it feels weird to think of just chopping it off _entirely_ , but… I thought maybe the ponytail would read more masculine, and we see how well that's gone."

Was that what that was about? "I see." Was the wardrobe change part of the same effort, then?

"I even _contoured_ today..." Valon tilted his head. "...Makeup. To make facial structure look different."

Valon squinted a bit before he saw and then couldn't unsee it. " _Oh!_ That's what it was. I thought me mind was play' tricks on me this morning."

Amelda rolled his eyes. "Thanks." Valon couldn't tell if that was serious or sarcastic. Another brief silence, before, "...Hey Val?"

"Mm?"

"I've actually sort of been meaning to ask for a while… Does... my _name_ sound feminine to you?"

Valon blinked. "I dunno? You're the only Amelda I know, so."

"But when you first heard it. Or if you just randomly saw it now." He looked away. "I mean, all the stupid ways you missay it are, but even on its own.." Hey, 'Mel' wasn't girly. Or at least in Valon's mind. He guessed it might be different by Yank standards. "I… It feels like around here, most names that end in 'a' are feminine, so…"

Hm, when he pointed it out, that did seem true. There were bound to be a few exceptions, but as the general trend… "Well hey. If you're not happy with it, you can always change it, right?"

The redhead looked back to him with a hint of hope in his eyes. "You think? … Like, you'd just go with it if I did?"

Valon shrugged. "Don' see why not. Can't imagine Dartz havin' a problem with it, eitha."

He smiled a bit. "I'll think on that."

Valon looked him over again. Poor kid; he hadn't realized how much all this really bothered him. Dartz made sure no one back home ever made the mistake more than once, and they didn't meet new employees terribly often, so it mostly just came up during their rare outings… or the times Valon himself decided to be a dick, which he now felt considerably worse about doing.

"...Well 'ey. Ya know another thing. In a couple more years, ya can prob'ly just grow ya a nice beard. That should put a stop to it real nice, eh?"

There was a little longer pause than Valon expected before a light, "Heh. I guess that might be one option.. And I guess I really _should_ probably go ahead and start T soon. But who knows how long facial hair would take. Or if I'd even like it on me.."

Valon blinked. "...What's tea gotta do with anythin'?"

And he got a blink in return. "What… _doesn't_ it? Of course I need T if I'm gonna-" He seemed to realize something, and stared at Valon even as Valon looked between him and his drink. "...We're not talking about the same thing, are we."

"...What're _you_ talkin' about?"

"Testosterone. Hormone therapy." For about two seconds, Valon nearly asked what he'd need that for, after which point he felt like an absolute fuckwit. "Have.. you actually thought I was a cis boy all this time?"

Valon was going to assume the context of that word. "I guess? You an' Dartz just said you were a boy so…" In retrospect, a few things did suddenly make more sense.

The redhead just stared at him, somewhere between amusement and? Valon couldn't place what else he looked. "Wow. So all the jabs I took as you being a transphobic piece of shit were just you being a _regular_ piece of shit, is what I'm getting from this."

Valon rubbed the back of his head. "Yyyeah, sorry about that. If I'd known-"

"I mean it wouldn't have been less shitty regardless of the circumstances. It's just _different_ shit."

"Huh. I guess ya got a point?" He shrugged. "In that case, I'm only ' _alf_ sorry."

Gray eyes rolled _half_ -affectionately in response. "God, you're a jackass." He kicked Valon under the table, causing the brunet to jump.

Once settled again, Valon shot him a faux-glare. "Lucky we're in public or I wouldn' let ya get away with that, mate."

 _Emphatic shrug_. "You might. You love me like that~"

Heh. Under his breath, Valon muttered, "Yeah, I kinda do…"

"...What?"

Louder, with a challenging grin, "I said _yeah_ , but I love _fightin', too._ "

Fortunately, their food came before that could escalate too much farther, and Valon welcomed the distraction.

* * *

After the movie- which both enjoyed both sincerely and for the ways they were able to nitpick it- they went shopping.

Last year, Valon had shown up just a little before this time, and they were mostly still avoiding each other when they could; so Christmas shopping had entailed Dartz saying "here's a debit card, go find something that will keep you entertained". But this year, they decided to make it the proper Christmas Shopping Experience, splitting up long enough to buy gifts in secret for each other, and even finding some small novelty gifts for some of their tutors and such. Along with still spoiling themselves, just a little, of course.

One of their final stops was a bookstore, and the younger of the two future Swordsmen had loaded up an armful before admitting defeat and heading to the counter. He could barely see where he was going, but that was okay, because against his better judgment he was paying far more attention to each row of books he passed, occasionally debating if he could carry just _one_ more…

Fortunately, he came to the theology section soon. Since he doubted they had anything on Orichalcos teachings and the movie had been about his religious quota for a while otherwise, at least he could rest easy that there was nothing of interest in _this_ section, so there was no need to keep stalling to read every-

A book cover caught his eye, dammit.

But this time, it wasn't for the title or the cover art or the subject matter. What suddenly pulled his attention was the author's name.

"Sup mate? Need any 'elp with all those?" came Valon's voice behind him.

"Huh? No, I'm fine." His pride probably minded the help more than his arms would have, but he'd be fine. Valon was already carrying a few books of his own and more of their bags, after all. More importantly, though, "Hey… Wha'd'you think of Alister?"

Valon blinked. "Alister 'oo?"

"Oh, no;" he shook his head. "I meant… for me. It's sort of coincidence I saw it just now, but it reminded me it's an uncommon name I've liked for a while, and since we'd brought up maybe changing mine.."

"Ah. Made your mind up that fast, didja?" the brunet asked, not _quite_ a tease but leaning that direction.

"Well, no," he admitted, continuing toward the register now. "It's not a spur of the moment decision. But it's… a thought."

"Fair enough." Valon readjusted his bags as they walked. "Wouldja maybe wamme t' start callin' ya that for a while so you can see 'ow ya like it?"

The boy found himself smiling wider than he expected. "I was just thinking about asking if you would, so yes. I'll be sure to let you know if it feels like it's sticking or not."

Valon nodded his acknowledgement. And that would have been such a nice note to leave it on. But a few seconds later, while standing in line, Alister didn't have to look to _hear_ that awful grin. "Soo… What you're sayin' is we could be Val an' Al, then."

In full deadpan: "I am immediately reconsidering this decision." Valon all but cackled, but Alister would be lying if he said some part of him wasn't playing up his reaction just _to_ get more of a rise. "Anyway," he continued just as outwardly flatly, "it would _clearly_ be Al and Val."

"Sorry mate, but we're goin' by age, not alphabetically."

"Says you."

"Damn right says me."

Oh look it was their turn in line. Alister 'accidentally' gave Valon a light shove as he piled his books onto the counter. As the cashier went through them, Alister turned his attention to Valon's selections. A fiction book with some sort of cyberpunk hero on the cover sat on top, and he could see the spine of what looked to be… something on the history of automotives? Alister was mildly impressed.

… There was too much space between those. "Are you trying to be sneaky with those magazines or is that coincidence?"

Valon's jump suggested it was not the latter, but he answered, "What's that s'posed to mean?" He followed Alister's gaze down and back up, then indignantly said, "I get the distinct feelin' you're tryin' t'accuse me o' somethin' unsavory 'ere. Now take a Captain Cook." He moved his fiction book aside to show a few motorcyclist magazines.

"Ah." For about two seconds, Alister was ready to shrug it off; it just would've been something to tease him over, anyway; no big deal. But Valon seemed slightly _too_ secure in his innocence, and Alister reached over to grab one from the pile.

" 'EY!"

He brushed his thumb over the pages until he found one that felt thicker than the others, opened the magazine sideways to that page, and watched as a fold-out poster unfurled to display a topless but barely-censored woman in a rather suggestive pose across a bike. "...Uh-huh."

"..."

"..."

"I'm fifteen, don't you bloody judge me."

As Alister quietly snickered and folded the magazine back up, the cashier asked, "Was that yours, too, or is this separate?"

The redhead shrugged dramatically. "Let him pay for his own guilty pleasures." He said, as if there was anything slightly surprising or unusual about this, or as if their money didn't come from exactly the same source. But it was fun to see just how close he could push Valon to blowing his top without _quite_ sending him over the edge. So the more jeering he could squeeze in, the better.

* * *

That should just about do it for shopping, they agreed. It was getting close to time to head back to the rendezvous, too. Maybe a quick glance in the game store that was near the entrance. Alister wouldn't mind seeing if they had Falcon 4.0…

Either way would be fine, of course. They already had so much, and he'd had a surprisingly good day in spite of a few setbacks and frustrations, so he couldn't really imagine his mood taking too hard a hit at this late in the-

He stopped cold.

A small crowd was gathered, a line formed. And he could see the product on a huge banner in the window, and the crowd's excited murmurs confirmed: "I can't wait to get the new Kaiba Corp console!" "I hear it's going to put other consoles this generation to shame!" "I can't believe they got it a day early here! Just in time for the holidays, huh?"

"Y'okay mate?" He barely heard the words. "...Alister?" His gaze remained fixated on the logo plastered across the window display, and he clenched his fists until he started to shake. "...Oh, shit."

Alister reared back as if to fling of his bags straight at the window, but Valon caught his arm. Setting down all the bags on his free arm, Valon soon moved to-

He- This was both comforting and restraining, and made perfect sense, but he definitely hadn't expected Valon to _hold_ him like this- ever, let alone in the middle of the mall.

" 'e'll get what's 'is, don' you worry. Dartz'll make sure of it. _We'll_ make sure of it." Alister bit his lip, and looked sharply away, but did not fight the embrace. " 'fyou go makin' a scene 'ere, you're just gonna get us banned-" hilarious, coming from the person who'd gotten them kicked out of at least three different places this past year himself- "and mess up all the nice stuff we got." Fine, true.

Valon squeeze him a little tighter, then finally put some distance between them again, leaving a hand on Alister's shoulder. "You're better than Seto Kaiba'll ever be, so don't let him ruin the whole day."

"I guess," Alister grumbled under his breath. He was just glad Valon had learned by now to not remark on whether it was "the proper" Kaiba; he'd heard that a few times since the young CEO took over and really didn't care to again. Gozaboro may have done the business dealings, but Seto still basked in an empire built atop corpses. Then, just to pour salt into the wound, he'd turned it into a gaming company, invading one of the few spaces that Alister and Valon got to regularly enjoy together and making it hard to navigate without-

Alister growled pointedly to vent more frustration, but then just adjusted his bags and stormed toward the mall entrance, Valon regathering his things to follow close behind.

* * *

The morning of December 25th began as routinely as ever for Dartz- until he first exited his room, and found two teens in the hallway waiting for him.

"Merry Christmas, Master Dartz~" they both greeted.

"... Yes, I suppose it is," he said in return.. And now they had each grabbed a wrist to drag him down the hall. He reluctantly followed lest they literally yank him along. "Would anyone mind telling me exactly what you think you're doing," Dartz implored.

"Chrissiepressies!" said Valon.

"We just… thought it might be nice to open some together," explained Am- or rather, Alistair, was it, now? No, Alister, that was it. The boy stopped to look up to him with eyes entirely too large. "As a family?"

Dartz's face remained stoic, but inside his gut twisted a small degree. "Not that your modern holidays aren't quite a cute endeavor, but doesn't this little ritual usually involve-" They continued dragging him quickly until they entered a room where a small Christmas Tree had been erected and decorated, a handful of presents under it, and the entire room covered in tinsel and lights and those obnoxious paper foil 'icicles' that never seemed to go away. Dartz was entirely certain he never approved this room makeover.

All the same, he sighed heavily. "Very well. If you insist I be present for your exchange, just make it quick." He crossed his arms to watch.

But did not expect them to exchange a glance, then retrieve one of the boxes to give to him. "Merry Christmas, Master," said Alister.

Dartz stared at the box. "That's a... considerate gesture, boys, but I really don't celebrate-"

"G'on, _open_ it!" Valon said, a hand beside his mouth as if trying to yell across some sporting event despite being approximately two steps away.

"Just think of it as something to say thank you for all you've done for us," insisted Alister.

"... Very well." He was somewhat cautious as he removed the wrapping, then the lid, expecting something to fly out at any moment. … But inside, he found a silver serpent bangle inlaid with emeralds down its back, a bright peridot for one eye and a bright citrine for the other. He stared.

"Weeeeeelll?" prompted Valon.

"We had to get the eyes modified as it was and they're still probably a little off, but…"

Dartz continued to stare. How was he supposed to feel about this? These were his knights, his servants. But as they both smiled expectantly at him, what scared him was not how much he could see Kris in them both; it was how much each boy inspired the same reaction while feeling so thoroughly like his own person.

"This was quite a thoughtful gesture," he said at last, not quite monotone, but with no more verbal sincerity than the average 'nice job' canned encouragement. All the same, he found himself sliding it onto his arm…

Both seemed more pleased by his response than he'd expected, which only served to complicate his mixed feelings that much farther. For the time being, he would refrain from thinking too much on it, and instead see what they'd gotten for each other.

Several gifts seemed intended as jokes, getting a mild rise out of each other, and none seemed particularly extravagant, making Dartz wonder not for the first time if these children actually understood the level of wealth at their disposal, but he supposed he shouldn't complain.

At last, they were down to one present each.

"Hopefully I saved the best f'last," Valon said, handing Alister his final present.

Examining its size and shape, Alister remarked, "Gee, I wonder if it's a movie."

"But _which_ movie~"

Alister smiled and rolled his eyes before opening it- and stopping halfway through. "... Valon…" he murmured softly.

"Is that the right one? I wasn't sure 'ow many there were or which you'd seen, or nothin', so…"

Alister pulled the paper back farther to reveal a Dyna-Dude movie. "It's…" Only now did it become apparent in his voice that he was fighting back tears. "It's the one that came out last year. The…" He swallowed. "Miruko and I… saw the previews for this when it was first announced… He was so excited for it, and he- we… never did get to-…" Alister found a seat, clutching the tape close to his chest. "I'd almost completely… It had been so long since I'd heard anything about it, and…"

Valon, meanwhile, had shrunk back somewhat. "I uh… Sorry if that was… too much or- I just thought-"

"No!" Alister replied quickly. "No, it's…" He wiped his face on his shirt sleeve before any of the tears could actually fall and recomposed himself before replying, "I love it. Thank you, Valon."

The older boy was somewhere between relieved and quite proud of himself. "Well, good!"

"I feel kind of bad, now," Alister admitted. "My last present for you was still kind of a joke."

Taking the box, Valon asked, "Oh? Well let's see what it is, then!"

"Sorry if it's kind of underwhelming."

Valon unwrapped and opened the box, and his eyes lit up at the oversized aviator-style goggles within. "AL, NO."

"Heh. Yeah, like I-"

"No, I mean don't you _dare_ apologize, I _love these,_ " he declared. "I'm seriously gonna wear these every day."

Alister rolled his eyes lightly. "You really don't have to try _that_ hard to make me feel better, you know."

Meanwhile, Valon was already putting on the goggles. Not over his eyes, but resting on atop his head like some sort of hairband. Quietly, with bold and purposeful strides, he moved to where Alister sat, and leaned down such that their faces were only centimeters apart. Blue eyes pierced gray, staring deep into Alister's soul. With the most serious non-threatening tone Dartz had ever heard him muster, he stated, "Mate. You think I'm joking."


	5. Guardian Angel

The elevator ride could not have been more than a few minutes, but each felt longer than the last as the anxious feeling in Rafael's gut grew. He didn't want to do this, but here he was.

He wanted to serve the person who showed him the truth of the world. He wanted to help in the cleansing of the planet and the reclamation of paradise. He wanted to defeat whatever forces of evil may arise to challenge this new world order.

But he was far less fond of being part of a team effort. The very idea sounded unnecessarily complicated, and more of a social strain than he was equipped to handle with any efficiency after spending so very long alone. But it couldn't end there.

They were also _children._ Only 14 and 15.

Not much older than Sonia and Julian.

Perhaps that was the idea. Perhaps Dartz thought they would somehow fill the hole in his life.

That was probably arrogant to consider, he remembered. After all, they had been here for some time already, the way Dartz told it. No, he certainly would not be a central piece to the plan. He was only one more pawn in the collection, and the last pawn at that.

He was not looking forward to dealing with the antics of two over-excited teens. He was not looking forward to infringing on this tight-knit dynamic, in which he would be the outsider. He was not looking forward to this meeting or any of the doors it would open.

Yet the elevator doors opened regardless.

A redhead and a brunet stood waiting for them. "Welcome home, Master Dartz." / "Welcome home, fellas."

Home. There was an antiquated word.

Some part of Rafael was so sure he should feel a reassuring hand on his shoulder just now, yet no such feeling came. Instead, a dark, dreadful presence loomed over him.

Dartz wasn't helping, either.

"Alister. Valon," Dartz greeted. "This is the new recruit we discussed. I trust you will make him feel welcome."

Rafael didn't look at them, but he didn't have to. He could feel their eyes judging him. Sizing him up.

"Just how old _is_ this bloke?" Valon asked, clearly displeased.

"Someone sounds jealous," Alister mumbled, a clear jab. Rafael felt the tension in the room suddenly rise, including around Dartz. Strange?

Rather than respond to the accusation, however, Valon mused, "Hey wait, I know you! You're that ah… Rafael Mirdcleux, right?"

Rafael cringed, the butchered pronunciation so bad it physically pained him. "...Mirdcleux," he corrected. "Then again… I suppose it's just Rafael, now." What remained of his so-called family wanted nothing to do with him unless it was to cash in on his fame.

"Mm?" Valon smiled, locking his hands together behind his head in an easy-going gesture. "No wuckin' furries, mate. We ain't got last names, neither."

A pause. "...I do," corrected Alister. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you don't know it, though."

"..What, really?" Valon looked to him. "Well what is it?"

"...You know, I can think of literally no good that can come of you having that information. Forget I said anything."

"What? Aw c'mon, what am I gonna do? Find out where ya live?"

In a way, their focus on each other over him confirmed Rafael's fear of being the third wheel; but at the same time, he was almost grateful for the minimal attention.

His gratitude was short-lived. "How'd you know _his_ name, anyway?" Alister asked. "Who is this guy?"

" 'e's that kid!" Valon helpfully explained. "The one what was in all the papers an' such. They say 'e was trapped on an island all by 'imself for three years!" Rafael clenched his jaw slightly, debating whether to ask him to stop talking about it.

"That's correct," Dartz said simply.

Valon's next bit caught Rafael's attention, however. "I mean I did four an' a 'alf in prison, meself, but least I had folks what fed me sometimes. They let us go 'alf feral on the island center there a'the end, but I can't imagine 'avin' _no one._ "

"...Mm," Rafael acknowledged. So it was different, but perhaps the boy could understand a _fraction_ of what Rafael had been through. That was more than could be said of most people. The boy seemed careless and brash, but perhaps he'd not be the worst to need to be around in a professional setting, at least.

"So wait…" Alister slowly smirked as Valon awaited his question. "You're trying to tell me _you_ actually read something in the _news?_ "

Valon sneered. "Oh, piss off." . . . "It was in a duelin' mag, since 'e apparently had nothin' but 'is deck to keep 'im sane." He shot a glance Rafael's way. "No offense, mate."

"Got it. I _knew_ there had to be something up there," Alister continued to taunt.

"You sayin' I can't just happen t'know somethin' you don't?"

"I guess they _do_ say there's a first time for _everything_."

And then Valon had Alister in a headlock, their continued banter a jumble of interrupted fragments as they struggled. Dartz winced ever so slightly when it began, but then simply facepalmed. For a few moments, Rafael was somewhat concerned that no one was stopping this… until he noticed that, even as their insults became louder and more abrasive, both boys were smiling.

Dartz sighed. "They really are fine lads when they care to be, I assure you." As he strode past them, he called back a little louder, "Boys, I'm going to show your new brother to his room. I expect you both cleaned up and ready for dinner at seven sharp." They both interjected vague sounds of affirmation before returning to their scuffle. Dartz returned to normal volume. "Come along, Rafael."

Brother, huh? He did assume Dartz meant in-arms, but Rafael was still uncertain how to feel about the word. Or the boys, or his situation.

As they left the room, Rafael could faintly hear Valon's voice: "Well 'e's a real bucket o' sunshine, isn' 'e?"

No, he was not. The dark cloak of dread continued to hang over him.

"I understand living here may be… trying, at times," Dartz went on. "Should you wish to find a more private place nearby once you turn 18, that should be quite acceptable."

Rafael nodded. "Mm." They'd been over this to some degree. His birthday was in four months, and he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted after. But, for numerous reasons, Dartz had requested he spend his last stretch of time as a minor here. It would help acquaint him with his new cohorts, and should prevent his more scavenging relatives from bothering him.

This much, at least, was all right.

"You're so quiet," Dartz remarked. "I shall have to become reaccustomed to carrying on civil, rational conversations."

Hm? … Oh. That was a joke. About how rowdy the others were compared to him, apparently.

Rafael didn't laugh.

"These shall be your quarters for the time being. Should you require or simply desire more space, do let me know."

"I'll be fine," Rafael answered simply.

"Very well. I suppose I'll leave you to settle in, and see you at dinner. Do try not to be late." Was that a suggestion or a warning? Rafael couldn't tell, though he wasn't sure he cared.

After Dartz left, he set his bags in one corner and sat on his new bed. It, too, would suffice.

The looming dread lingered still. She stared at him from across the room, scythe ever in hand. Rafael found himself wondering briefly which would be worse: being shadowed by her forever, or never being able to explain her presence or the ways it affected him to anyone. Dartz was the singular person he'd met who could see the spirits as he could, and he praised Dreadscythe's presence.

Rafael understood he should probably do the same. She would be his trump card. His ultimate weapon for turning the darkness of the world back on itself. She was a powerful tool to be employed for a worthy cause. By all means, he should embrace her just as Dartz did.

Sighing, he buried his face in his hands.

He missed Eatos.

* * *

Alister had decided he quite liked his new name. People still seemed a little surprised sometimes when he introduced himself, but they seemed to make less mistakes now. It probably helped that after a few months of HRT, his voice, while not necessarily deeper, had started to feel a little more masculine; and he'd built more muscle than in all the time he spent working out before.

He knew that part drove Valon crazy. Before, even as lithe as he was, he could still beat Valon in a fight- very rarely, but ever, if he caught him on a bad day. And that had bothered Val enough. Now he was finally starting to get some upper body strength to combine with his skills (never mind that those were mostly skills Valon himself had taught him), and Alister never missed an opportunity to remind the teacher how dangerously close the student had gotten.

Currently, for instance.

Alister had the older boy pinned on his back, smirking down at him as he straddled his chest. "Give up yet?" Valon was blushing furiously, and blatantly pouting, refusing to look at Alister. "Don't worry, everyone gets rusty in their old age."

God, did it feel good to be able to gloat. Alister still carried so much resentment, and so much anger. He still broke every time he ran across the Kaiba Corp logo without warning. He still cried himself to sleep on some nights and woke up in a cold sweat from the nightmares on others. But those things didn't define him anymore. He had days like this, too. He had Dartz, and he had _Valon._ Maybe if things went well, Rafael would be added to that list.

All things considered, he was at a better place in his life than he'd ever expected to be. That he was actually half-excited to get to know Rafael spoke volumes of how much he'd grown since Valon joined their little family.

Someone else, however, did not seem to be taking it so well. "Awww, what's wrong? Did I upset the poor baby?"

Valon wasn't even trying to fight back. He probably could have thrown him if he _really_ wanted to. But he just continued sulking. "...You're supposed to be the baby."

"Hm?"

"...Ah. Nothin', forget it."

Alister deadpanned. "Yyyeah, no, I know that look. Spill."

Valon huffed a sigh. "Think we could get a little more comfortable, first?"

Alister shrugged. "Sure, no problem." He then shifted from sitting on Valon's chest to lying on top of him, chin propped on his folded hands, knees on Valon's legs and feet kicking in the air. With a cheery smile, he prompted, "Go on~?"

"... Y-..you're a right bloody bastard, ya know."

Alister squinted. "...What's with the stutter?"

Valon looked up to him at last. There was something Alister couldn't place in his blue eyes, but it startled him. What… What was going on? The longer he looked, the more a sense of panic kicked in, yet Alister couldn't seem to pull himself out of those eyes. Eyes that seemed to be growing steadily softer…

When did Valon's hand move? It was working its way into Alister's hair. His own hands pressed against Valon's shoulders- to steady himself or to try to push away, even he didn't know. He'd certainly felt like he might fall for a moment, but…

He'd ended up cutting his hair after all, but not as short as he'd considered; instead, he left it about chin length, and wore it straight down. A rock star sort of cut, he told himself.

Now, though, he could see the ends of his bangs hanging so near Valon's face. … _Nearer…_ Alister's heart rate skyrocketed as he realized he was getting closer. What-... What should he-

That hand behind his head pulled him closer-

And Valon promptly bit the tip of his nose.

Flying backward hard enough to break loose of Valon's grip and not stopping until he was sitting several feet away, Alister exclaimed, " _WHAT the HELL, Valon!?_ " His hand covered his nose, and by extension his whole face. He probably held it there longer than necessary, but it certainly wasn't to mask a furious blush or anything.

The brunet offered him a weak yet cocky smirk as he sat up. "Got ya t'move, didn'it? What am I always tellin' ya about fightin' dirty?"

Valon had quite often told him not to shy away from doing so, should the moment call for it. Anything to maintain the advantage. Of course, at the same time, he rarely did so himself. He said it was 'less fun that way'. So to say Alister was a little bitter about him suddenly going that route _now_ would have been an understatement.

Then again, what _exactly_ had he expected? He really should have known better. He decided to ignore whatever the hell had happened to his brain for a moment to focus instead on the previous topic. "So what's really bothering you?"

Valon mumbled something along the lines of 'hoping you forgot', then put on a borderline pouting face. "Guess I'm just not so sure what to make o' the new fella's all."

Alister shrugged lightly. "I wasn't sure what to make of you, either." On second thought, "Actually, that's a lie. I thought you were an obnoxious prick."

Valon half-smiled, raising a brow slightly. " _Thought_ , eh?"

"Of course, now I _know_ you're an obnoxious prick." That got a more sincere grin from Valon. "But I _guess_ sometimes a half-decent person, too."

"You're too kind."

"But really. If we're any indication, I'm sure the poor guy's been through more than we know. And he's bound to be a top-rate duelist, too, if Dartz took an interest in him. We should probably just take some time and get to know him before making too many assumptions," Alister reasoned.

Valon groaned a bit. "Yeah… I guess."

Hm… Gray eyes narrowed suspiciously as their owner considered what they knew so far. As a thought jumped to mind, Alister teased, "What? Are you mad that he stole your trophy for roughest years spent on an island?"

Valon's eyes widened a bit and he clenched his jaw a little tighter. "Not exactly."

Alister believed him, but he was onto _something._ "...Or maybe… just that he might be better at survival skills in general than you?" Valon didn't respond. "...Oh, wow, and he's older, and he's taller." He still didn't respond, but was starting to look nervous. "With all the time he spent devoted to dueling, he's gotta know his deck better than _anyone_. Do you think he's a better duelist than you? Or maybe even _stronger_ than-"

" _That's enough,_ I _get it_ , mate." He turned away and sulked a little harder.

"That's _adorable,_ " Alister teased. "You're worried he's gonna take your spotlight."

"Pull ya head in." But Alister just snickered. "...I'm still more muscular, ya know. I could still be the Strong One."

"Iiii dunno. Dude's got some _pretty_ broad shoulders, there. If he worked out as often as _you_ do-" Valon's sudden panicked look at him was more than he could take, and Alister burst into laughter. "Oh _relax,_ will you? No one's gonna replace you, idiot. He's just gonna make our whole team stronger."

Valon groaned skeptically.

"Besides. You're clearly the Feisty One." The poor guy could use a bone, Al _guessed._

And he latched onto it eagerly. "...Ya think?"

"Easily." Alister rolled his eyes. "I guess Rafael could surprise us, but I somehow doubt the two of us together could match your stupid level of energy. And after so long alone, it wouldn't surprise me if the guy's a total recluse. Whereas I just don't give a shit about most things. But you?" He sniffed a syllable of a laugh. "You care way too much about _everything._ "

Valon squinted as if trying to decide whether that was an accusation. "Wha'd'you mean by 'too much'?"

"You're doing that on purpose, right?"

"...Maybe." Alister wasn't sure which would be funnier.

Climbing to his feet, he mumbled, "Dumbass." He smacked his fist lightly against Valon's head as he walked past. "C'mon, we should get ready for dinner."

Valon rubbed the place he'd hit. "Yeah… I guess."

* * *

Of course, Valon couldn't tell Alister how much he really helped him sort through and control his feelings sometimes. Or how much he turned them into an incomprehensible mess _other_ times.

 _Biting_ him? _Really_ , Valon? Really.

Fortunately, dinner gave him something else to dwell on for the time being. Even if doing so turned out to be pretty pointless.

Alister- as he so often was- had been completely right. Rafael barely said a word all night. Barely reacted to anything. At the end of the meal, when he excused himself, he thanked all three of them again for having him, and- get this- assured them he would try to be as little trouble as possible.

 _As little trouble as possible?_ Valon's middle name was Trouble! Of course he technically didn't have a middle name that he knew of, but that meant he could make it anything he wanted, right? Valon Trouble Somethingorother. Yes, perfect. … Maybe some _slight_ tweaking, but he could worry about that later.

The point was, Raf turned out to be downright _boring_ , and Valon couldn't just sit back and take something like _that_.

So the following day, and for a few after, he tried to find or make excuses for Rafael to join them in various activities, but to no avail.

Having been removed from society for so long, he was further behind on his studies than Valon, so they didn't share any lessons in that regard. (Valon himself was pretty on-par or perhaps slightly below average with most of his courses, though he still excelled at math and physics; but Alister, the little shit, had gotten ahead of him in most things just by the merit of trying way too hard. And he said _Valon_ cared too much. Okay.)

And Valon was the only one still taking any proper lessons on the physical education side. Alister had become content with just sparring regularly with Valon, and Rafael was apparently being merely encouraged to keep himself in good physical condition at his leisure. Valon _guessed_ he could understand why Dartz thought his years of survival had been training enough, but that didn't do anything for helping figure out how to get Rafael out of his shell, so.

Honestly, most of the time, it was like it was still just the two of them, and occasionally Dartz. Rafael joined them for most but not all meals, but rarely interacted with the others, and never more than he had to.

So, about a week and a half after the eldest boy had arrived, Valon decided to try a different approach.

* * *

" 'ey Raf, are those bangs or sideburns?"

What a weird question… Probably better to ignore him.

" 'ey Raf, y'know if y'need help with yer schoolin' I can probably round up a couple o' preschoolers for ya."

… Uh? He thought he was actually catching up at a pretty decent rate but okay then…

"Ya know for someone with such a superhero origin story background, you're pretty fuckin' boring, mate."

Insults like this had been become the norm over the past week, but Rafael continued to ignore them. He wasn't sure what Valon's game was, but it seemed like the easiest way to win was likely not to play.

Ideally, he'd have just avoided the younger teens altogether for a few months until he could leave, but Dartz insisted they share at least one meal a day, even though Dartz himself rarely made it. Slowly but surely, those were starting to wear on his nerves.

" 'ey Raf, you do know there's more than three rooms in the buildin', right? Course if you're scared you'd get lost, I'm sure Ally there'd _love_ t'help you out."

Alister bristled, though whether it was at the nickname or the suggestion, Rafael couldn't say. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I just figured 'e seemed like your type," Valon answered with a shrug.

"... I'm not going to dignify that with a response." Rafael was half-tempted to point out that it technically was a response, but he refrained with minimal effort.

"Ooh, maybe you're not 'is, though? Course I'd be 'alf-surprised if some'ne like 'im 'as a type at all."

Rafael blinked. "I don't," he responded simply.

Valon feigned an overly impressed expression. "It _speaks!_ Wha', they upgrade yer specs today 'r somethin'?" Rafael answered with only a questioning glance. "Y'know. You bein' a robot an' all. I figure they musta installed some new words for ya."

… "Mm."

Alister seemed more annoyed by it than Rafael was, really. "Okay, what's the deal, Valon? You've been more of a dick lately than usual. And that's a pretty high bar."

Valon gave a pronounced but easy shrug. " 'fya ask me, I'm not the one with a problem, 'ere. It's Quiet McSnooty over 'ere what thinks 'e's too good for us."

"Give it a rest, will ya? Frankly, in his shoes, I wouldn't wanna talk to you, either."

"I'll bet you _don't_ , with a stud like 'im 'ere, eh?" Rafael got the distinct feeling he was intruding on something?

"..Wh-at? Valon I thought we were past- Are you still jealous of him or what?"

Rafael tuned out several more quips back and forth. This was too much noise for him right now. He needed to focus on finishing his dinner quickly so he could just leave.

"No, seriously, I don't even understand what you're implying," Alister was saying when Rafael unwillingly tuned back in. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I like every guy I see? That's not how it _works_. But if it was that would include _you?_ So I literally don't understand how you think that's even remotely related to me taking Raf's side here."

"There's a lot you don't understand, ain't there?"

"... _Val_ , your insults aren't even making _sense_. I get _better grades than you._ "

" 'oo said I meant grades-wise? I know more about the _real_ world than you lot ever will."

"News flash, genius. You've been exactly as sheltered since you got here as I have."

"Yet I can actually _talk_ t' people. Not t'mention I pick up practical skills way faster."

"I mean that really depends what-"

"An' I'm a way better duelist than both o' ya put together." Rafael's eyes flashed up.

"How do you _figure_ when _I_ can beat you on my-"

"That's enough," Rafael interrupted.

Valon gave an impressed whistle. "Four words in one conve-"

"Shut it." The blond leered, warning.

Valon only offered a cocky grin as he remarked, quieter, "Six."

Rafael had forgotten that anyone could be this infuriating. Selfish, petty, rude, uncaring: these were simply the base nature of humanity. But to be so intentionally antagonistic? To continue digging and digging for no greater purpose than to sow dissent? How could _this_ be someone Master Dartz thought could help cleanse the world? How was this the same person he'd thought might be bearable upon first impression?

As Valon ate, he went on- half the time with his mouth full, and Rafael couldn't help but wonder if he was doing that on purpose. "Seriously though, mate. Duelin's changed an awful lot while you were gone. I know you've been back for a while, but I sort of doubt you've 'ad time to catch up, so."

"I can win with the deck I have," Rafael stated.

"Care to prove that?" Valon challenged.

Rafael sighed heavily. He didn't want to, but perhaps if he won it would shut him up. That, and Dreadscythe had been itching to fight for some time… He'd tried to refrain, but… perhaps he could let her sate her lust.

Alister turned to him. "Nothing against your dueling here, given I haven't seen it myself, but as fair warning, he actually _is_ pretty good."

"If you're so worried for your boyfriend, maybe you should join 'im," Valon suggested.

Alister rubbed a temple. "For fuck's sake…"

"I did say I was better than both o' ya, didn' I? So c'mon! Right after dinner, let's go! One-on-two!"

Rafael looked between the two for a moment before insisting, "He doesn't need to."

But Alister spoke up. "No, you know? I think I do. When he gets like this, ignoring him isn't going to work. So, if you'd have me…"

Rafael's gut turned at the sight of Valon triumphantly beaming. "Fine." Even as the brunet opened his mouth for more trash talk, Rafael added, "On the condition we can finish our meal in peace."

Valon shifted to a lower key smirk then. "You gotcherself a deal, mate."

* * *

Obnoxious as he was, the brat actually _was_ good. He even managed to take down Guardian Kay'est once, though Rafael had wasted no time in bringing her back.

" _Geez_ , mate. If ya love yer cards so much, why don' ya just marry 'em?"

Like he hadn't heard that before…

"I activate Pot of Greed," Alister declared.

"Good," chided Valon. "That'll let me activate my Bad Aim trap." Oh no. With that, he could pick any card on the field to destroy. "I think it's about time Kay'est goes back to the graveyard~"

Rafael's eyes widened, but before he could say anything, he heard, "Not so fast! Because I'll activate my Royal Decree, rendering all other traps useless for as long as it's in play!"

A wave of relief washed over Rafael. "You protected her…"

"Of course," shrugged Alister. "We're in this together, right?" He supposed they were… "I'll place one more card facedown and end my turn." Alister gave Rafael a nod.

Rafael drew- and nearly dropped his card.

Guardian Eatos…

He could not currently sense Dreadscythe's presence, but that didn't mean she wasn't there. And normally, drawing Eatos was enough to feel hers. Right now, he felt nothing, and that almost scared him more. Right now, he was just holding a card… but a card that might win the duel.

"We ain't got all daaaay, mate!"

"Oh shut it, Valon. We literally _don't_ have anything else to do today."

Rafael took a few deep breaths, attempting to steady himself. "Since I have no monsters in the Graveyard…" Easy breaths, stay calm. "I'm able to summon Guardian Eatos."

He laid the card uneventfully on the table.

" _Crikey_. All your cards 'ave seen better days, but she's the worst yet. Y'know with Dartz's money you could buy some repla-"

Rafael's fist hit the table; his jaw clenched. Valon stopped talking. "I'll equip her with Celestial Sword, raising her attack points to 3000."

"Close, but no cigar, mate," the brat sneered.

He was right. He could inflict a lot of damage, but Valon would still be kicking next turn, and very likely had some powerful retaliation in the works. How much did Rafael trust Alister?

He knew how much he trusted Eatos…

"I'll attack your life points directly."

Valon started to laugh, but quickly stopped when Alister announced, "I'll activate my Ego Boost. That should be plenty familiar to you, eh Valon?"

Eatos's attack points were raised to 4000- enough to wipe Valon out and win the duel.

And there, for a fraction of a second, he felt a flicker of light, gone as soon as it came.

"Oh, bugga! I was so close!" Valon crossed his arms emphatically… and Alister leered. "Guess you blokes showed me." Leering intensified. "That was some teamwork ya pulled out there, though, I gotta admit."

"You _little shit._ " Panic flashed through Valon's eyes as Alister stood. "You set us up, didn't you!"

Valon floundered a moment too long before insisting, "I did no such thing!"

"You're not even a good liar! If this was a real challenge, you'd be demanding a rematch!"

"I- Maybe I'm just-"

While Valon fumbled to find an answer, and their bickering went on, the reality sank in for Rafael.

It had been immediately apparent when he'd arrived at DOMA how deep the bond between these two was. Then, over the past week, he had watched Valon do everything in his power to turn both Rafael _and Alister_ against him… to give them a common enemy, he now realized.

He threatened his own friendship to give Rafael a reason to trust someone…

He had… _used_ , had _repurposed_ , cruel and dark-spirited methods to achieve a kind and selfless goal.

Perhaps Rafael was reading too much into that; perhaps as much was incidental as planned, or perhaps Valon had ulterior motives Rafael simply wasn't seeing. But even the thought of such a gesture touched him to his core.

And as his heart filled with gratitude, he realized it was not the only warmth he felt. He felt the phantom sensation of a hand on his shoulder, and turned wide-eyed to see Eatos smiling down once again- exhausted, but present. She… She was back.

She soon faded again, but a lingering feeling remained- the feeling that had given him strength for so long.

He wasn't sure what the boys were arguing about just now, as it sounded like they'd drifted to a new topic. They each left the table to confront each other more directly, adding an occasional shove and a lot of intimidating body language to the ongoing shouting match. Rafael just gathered his deck quietly, lingering when he picked up Eatos's card.

When it was safely put away, he, too, stood up and approached the others. They settled long enough to look at him.

"Yeah, what is it? You wanna piece too?" Valon dared him.

Rafael did move closer; Valon took a guarded stance… and stiffened awkwardly when Rafael drew him into a tight hug.

The blond held for a few seconds before finally pulling away. As blue eyes met, he stated, soft but sincere, "Thank you."

Leaving both boys in baffled silence, Rafael returned to his room.

The world outside may have been unforgiving, but for the first time since arriving, he truly felt like DOMA was different. He had joined out of desperation when Dartz _said_ they could change the world, but for the first time, he had a true sense of hope they just might.

After nearly three weeks of having that shadow hang over him, the weight of his dread had finally been lifted.


End file.
